Caleb shook his head. “That room is located off the main basement corridor. There are usually lots of people walking along there. We’ll get caught.”

“If we act like we’re supposed to be there, no one will challenge us.”

“He’s right, Caleb,” Annabelle said.

“I’m going too,” Reuben added. “I’m tired of being left out of all the fun.”

Milton piped in, “What about us?”

“I can’t walk in with an army of people,” Caleb wailed.

Annabelle said, “We can be backup, Milton. Every plan needs to allow for contingencies.”

Stone looked at her strangely. “Fine, you can be our backup. We’ll go tonight.”

“Tonight!” Caleb exclaimed. “I’ll need at least a week to work up the nerve. I’m a wimp. I started out as a librarian at an elementary school, but I couldn’t take the pressure.”

“You can do it, Caleb,” Milton advised. “I felt the same way today, but it’s not that hard to fool people. If I can do it to some architects, you can do it at the place where you work. What could they possibly ask you that you wouldn’t have an answer for?”

“Oh, I don’t know, how about where’s my brain for agreeing to do this in the first place?” Caleb shot back. “And besides, the building will be closing by the time we get there.”

“Can you still get us in with your library badge?”

“I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not,” he said evasively.

“Caleb,” Stone said calmly. “We have to do this.”

Caleb sighed. “I know. I know.” He added sharply, “At least allow me the satisfaction of pretending I’m putting up a fight.”

Annabelle put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. “Caleb, you remind me of somebody I know. His name’s Leo. He likes to bitch and moan and act like a weenie, but in the end he always comes through.”

“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” Caleb said stiffly.

Stone cleared his throat and opened one of the journals he’d brought with him. “I think I’ve discovered at least partly what it is we’re up against.”

They all turned their attention to him. Before he started speaking, he switched on his portable radio and classical music filtered into the room. “Just in case the cottage is being bugged,” he explained. He cleared his throat again and told them about his trip to Bradley’s destroyed house. “They killed the man and blew up his house. At first I thought it was to keep up the terrorist group subterfuge. Now I think there could be another reason: namely, that in spite of his reputation as an honest man, Bob Bradley was corrupt. And the evidence of that corruption disappeared in the explosion.”

“That’s not possible,” Caleb said. “His predecessor was a crook, not Bradley. They elevated Bradley to the top spot to clean things up.”

Stone shook his head. “In my experience in Washington one does not capture the Speaker’s chair on an agenda of anticorruption. One gets there by building up powerful support and cultivating alliances over the years. Still, Bradley’s ascension was out of the ordinary. If the majority leader hadn’t been indicted along with the former Speaker, the job would’ve gone to him. And after him the party whip. But the leadership was so tainted that Bradley was brought in like the proverbial out–of–town sheriff to clean up the town. But I’m not talking about that sort of corruption.”

“Bradley’s role as Speaker obscures the other significant title he held: that of chairman of the House Intelligence Committee. In that role Bradley would have been briefed on virtually every covert operation going on in every American intelligence agency, including the CIA, NSA and the Pentagon. He and his staff would have been privy to secrets and classified documents worth a great deal to our enemies.” Stone leafed through his journal. “Over the last several years there have been numerous accounts of espionage against American intelligence agencies, some of which have resulted in the deaths of undercover agents, four in the most recent instance that the press identified as State Department liaisons. And according to Reuben’s sources, it’s even worse than the media have reported.”

“So you’re saying Bradley was a spy?” Milton asked.

“I’m saying it’s a possibility.”

Caleb said, “But if Bradley was working with America’s enemies, why would they kill him?”

“There are two possibilities,” Stone replied. “First, he might have asked for more money in return for his acts of treason, and they decided to kill him instead. Or —”

Annabelle said, “Or we killed him.”

Stone glanced at her and nodded slightly. The others looked stunned.

Caleb exclaimed, “We? As in our government!”

“Why kill him? Why not bring him to justice?” Milton added.

“Because doing that entails it all coming out,” Stone said.

“And maybe the CIA and Pentagon don’t want people to know they were beaten by the other side,” Reuben added.

“And the CIA is not known for its compassion,” Stone added dryly. “Even the Speaker of the House may not be immune from their target sheet.”

“But if it is our own government behind this, who were the people who kidnapped and tortured you, Oliver?” Milton asked.

Annabelle shot him a glance. “You were tortured?”

“I was interrogated thoroughly by some very experienced people,” Stone replied.

“Thoroughly interrogated? They tried to drown you,” Caleb snapped. “By … water–dunking you.”

Reuben slapped his leg in fury. “Water–dunking! For God sakes, Caleb, that’s what they do to clowns at the fair. What they did to Oliver was water–boarding, and it sure as hell ain’t the same thing.”

Stone said, “To address your question, Milton, I don’t know how my abductors play into this yet. It doesn’t make sense that if our government killed Bradley, they would also be interested in what we’ve found out. They’d already know.”

“It would make sense if the agency that killed Bradley did the deed on its own, and another agency is trying to play catch–up,” Annabelle offered. “We may have one agency pitted against another.”

Stone looked at her with even more respect. “That’s an interesting theory. How it plays out for us is hard to say right now.”

“Are you still thinking this is tied to Jonathan’s death?” Annabelle asked.

“The common denominator all along has been Cornelius Behan,” Stone said. “His appearance at the library and his interest in the fire suppressant system only makes our suspicions seem more well founded. That’s the tie to Jonathan. Cornelius Behan. And to get to the bottom of that, we have to find out how Jonathan died.”

“So we have to burglarize the Library of Congress,” Caleb groaned.

Stone put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better, Caleb, it’s not the first government building I’ve broken into.”

Chapter 36

Caleb managed to get Stone and Reuben through security on the strength of his credentials and the lie that they were important visitors looking at an exhibit after hours, although Caleb did so reluctantly and thus not very smoothly.

As they took the elevator down to the basement, Caleb complained, “Well, I don’t feel all that different for having committed a felony!”

“Oh, the felony’s coming up, Caleb,” Stone said, showing his friend the ring of special keys. “What you did back there was probably no more than a misdemeanor.” Caleb merely glared at him.

They located the room, which had large double doors. Stone quickly found the key on his ring that would fit the lock. A moment later they were inside the spacious room. The fire suppression equipment was against one wall.

“Now I see the reason for the large doors,” Stone said.

The cylinders were huge, each probably weighing nearly a ton, and would not have fit through a regular–size door. Several of them were connected to pipes that ran to the ceiling and beyond.

The labels on the cylinders all read ‘Halon 1301.’ “Fire Control, Inc.,” Stone said, reading the name of the company that had installed the equipment, which was also printed on the cylinders. He next studied the piping configuration. “There’s a manual switch here to turn on the gas. And the pipes must run to a number of rooms in addition to the book vaults. But it’s not clear which cylinder would be running to your space, Caleb.”