Murder in the White House (Capital Crimes Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

Murder and sensitivity. An odd couple.
    The East Room, Wednesday, June 13, 10:00 AM
    It was the first news conference in the East Room, and someone had already suggested it was inappropriate for the President to face television cameras, radio microphones, and a hundred fifty excited reporters there. Ron Fairbanks knew why he had chosen it. To face the world and talk about a murder in the White House, the President needed all the dignity his office and the Mansion could provide.
    It was a subdued crowd assembled on the chairs brought into the East Room since the decision at eight o’clock to hold the news conference there. The White House News Office had issued the announcement of Blaine’s murder at 3:00 AM. Nothing since. The President’s morning appointments had been cancelled, but only those he was to meet had been called; the News Office had not even issued a statement that the announced schedule of appointments had been cancelled, Ron Fairbanks had gone home, had a few hours sleep and a bath, and returned to the White House at eight—without receiving a single call. He waited now in the Green Room for a word with the President before they entered the East Room together—with a sense that hemight be enjoying the last moments of privacy he would know for… who knew until when?…
    In his own West Wing office, in the two hours he had been there this morning, he had only begun to glean the magnitude and complexity of the job he had been given. Curtis Burke, Director of the FBI, had not concealed, during a twenty-minute meeting, his irritation at finding himself subordinated to Ronald Fairbanks in the investigation of the Blaine murder. (“I am curious, frankly, as to what you think your qualifications are.” “My principal qualification, frankly, is that my name is in the Executive Order Number 2159.”) The Attorney General had been cordial; he offered staff assistance and an office at the Justice Department. Fairbanks had accepted the assignment of two Assistant Attorneys General as his temporary assistants, and he had asked the two to set up a supplementary office for him—as the Attorney General had suggested—at the Justice Department. Fritz Gimbel had come in to pick up pending files and to tell him he could have two secretaries and an additional office in the West Wing. The Secret Service gave him a code name—“Hotshoe”—and put him under protection. Executive Order No. 2159 was signed by the President during the morning, and a signed copy was brought to him. Lynne stopped by—looking shaken; in fact, near trembling—and told him “everything” depended on him. Terrific news….
    “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES.”
    Ron Fairbanks followed the President into the East Room and took a chair at the table where the President stood and faced the microphones. He was the only other person at the table.
    “As all of you know,” the President said—he spoke somberly and very slowly, gripping the podium as no one had ever seen him do before—“last night… about eleven-thirty, Secretary of State Lansard Blaine was found dead… in the Lincoln Sitting Room… here in the White House. The circumstances of his death compel us to conclude that he was murdered. A very thorough… investigation has been underway since the discovery of the body. The Secret Service, the FBI, and the Metropolitan Police have worked all night. At this hour they do not yet have a suspect.”
    The President’s face glistened with sweat. The strain was also obvious in his voice.
    “Before I say anything more… I want to say that Lansard Blaine was my friend. He was a man of outstanding abilities. Before he became Secretary of State he had already made an honored name for himself as a student and teacher of American foreign relations. He made an outstanding record as Secretary of State. It is no secret to you that he was under consideration for the Nobel Peace Prize. Personally, I think he should have