Blood Trust Read Online Free PDF

A little. I don’t know.”
    Willowicz nodded. “Then what?”
    “We danced … together.”
    “And things progressed from there.”
    “Oh so very fast.” O’Banion leered.
    “And this first meeting was how long ago?”
    “About five months.”
    “And you’ve been seeing the victim ever since.”
    “Yes.”
    “When did you see him last?”
    A slight hesitation, for which she could have bitten her tongue. “This evening—well, yesterday, now.”
    Willowicz’s head came up like a pointer scenting game. “When, exactly?”
    “After dinner. About eight.”
    “Did you have permission to leave Fearington?”
    Alli shifted from one foot to another. “No.”
    “So you sneaked out.”
    Alli stared at him, unflinching. She had no wish to look at Commander Fellows. “Billy begged me. He said it was urgent.”
    “Uh-huh.” Willowicz was scribbling some more. “And?”
    “And that’s it. I never found out what he wanted to talk to me about.”
    Willowicz’s eyebrow arched. “Why was that?”
    “I was supposed to meet him at Twilight. Just as I came around the corner, I saw him walk off with someone.”
    “Who?”
    “I have no idea.”
    “Man or woman?”
    “The person’s back was to me.”
    “Tall, short, thin, fat?”
    “The figure was in shadow.”
    “So it could have been a woman.”
    Silence.
    “Your contention is that you never spoke to the victim at any time yesterday?”
    “No, as I said, he and I had a brief phone conversation.”
    “You never spoke face-to-face.”
    “No.”
    In typical interrogator’s style, Willowicz now switched subjects without warning. “And so you had motive.”
    “Motive,” Alli said, taken aback. “What motive?”
    Again, Willowicz turned a page. “As it happens, the victim had met someone—a week ago. Her name is … let’s see, Kraja. Arjeta Kraja.”
    “Fucking foreign names.” O’Banion snickered. No one else moved or said a word.
    Willowicz looked up from his notes. “You know this Arjeta Kraja, Ms. Carson? Ever met her?”
    “No,” Alli said. “No, I haven’t.”
    “Interesting.” Willowicz held out his hand and O’Banion placed something in it.
    When Alli saw that it was a photo, her heart sank. Reluctantly, she took it when Willowicz handed it over, a surveillance photo of three people talking casually outside a local bar.
    “Man, she’s smokin’ hot,” O’Banion said.
    “Ms. Carson,” Willowicz said, “would you be good enough to identify the young woman with you and William Warren.”
    Of course it was Arjeta Kraja.
    *   *   *
    O N THEIR way out of the hospital, Henry Holt Carson said, “Mr. Secretary, I believe your phone’s about to ring,” just as Paull’s phone buzzed.
    Paull gave him a sharp glance.
    “I think you’d better answer it,” Carson said with a perfectly straight face. The gloating was all in his voice.
    Paull thumbed on the cell phone and put it to his ear. He listened for close to ten seconds before he said, “Yes, sir,” and closed the connection. “Jack, go on ahead. I’ve got an appointment at the White House.”
    “At this hour?” Jack said.
    “This president never sleeps,” Carson said. Then, turning to Jack, he said, “Why don’t I give you a lift?”
    “I have my own car—”
    Carson waved a hand. “I’ll have someone come and fetch it.”
    Jack recognized a summons when he heard one. He watched his boss cross the parking lot and approach his car. Stars were blurred by the city’s artificial dome of light and the slow creep of dawn. A chilly wind blew off the Potomac with a dampness that pierced his thick coat like a spear.
    Jack turned back to Carson. “What’s going on?”
    Carson shrugged his meaty shoulders. “Why ask me?”
    “Because,” Jack said, “you seem to have orchestrated this entire scene.”
    Carson appeared unperturbed.
    Jack hurried to Carson’s Navigator and they climbed into the backseat. Carson’s driver turned the SUV around and drove away from