Page 42 of Alibi for Murder
Like Steve, Allie recognized that was where this was going. She had hoped this man could shed some light on at least some of the unknowns.
Rivero stared at her for a long moment before responding. “We don’t say SILO out loud. We don’t text about it. We don’t talk about it period. It was the CIA’s baby, and that will get you taken out quicker than a dose of cyanide.”
“We’ll take that as a yes,” Steve fired back.
Rivero held up his hands. “To answer the first part of your question, when the janitor died suddenly—”
“How did he die?” Steve interrupted.
“An accident, what else?” Rivero shook his head and considered his inspiring view yet again. “The official conclusion was that his truck fell off the jack onto him while he was working under it.”
Allie winced. Steve sent her a reassuring look.
“I watched your parents for weeks to find the right opportunity to connect with your father.” He took another of those long pauses. “There was a carnival in Woodstock. Your parents took you. I followed them, and while your mother rode with you on the carousel, I approached. A crowd of fathers and grandfathers were gathered in a cluster to try getting photographs of their offspring aboard the wooden horses. I pretended to be one of them. I got as close to your father as possible and told him who I was. In those days, I always wore disguises when out in public. It was the only way for me to have a moment of peace.”
“Comes with the territory,” Steve pointed out. From the videos he’d watched of Rivero’s heyday, he had loved every minute of it.
“Why my father?” Allie asked, the ache of the question in her voice. “Why not someone else?”
“Harvey had given me the names of those who knew the most and who I might be able to trust. I certainly didn’t want to approach anyone who would out me. Otherwise, I might have ended up under a car like poor Harvey.”
“Or dead on the side of the road with your wife.”
Allie’s words hit their mark. Rivero grimaced.
“The truth was,” Rivero went on, “Jerry was looking for a way out. He’d been contemplating just leaving town. Taking his family and disappearing. But your mother wouldn’t hear of it.” His gaze settled on Allie once more. “Your mother didn’t want to leave her parents, and they refused to move.”
Allie’s expression warned that his words stabbed deep. Steve knew she had loved her grandparents. The idea that a single decision on their part caused this had to be immensely painful.
While she struggled for what to say next, Steve asked, “What about the Regers? Dennis and Lucille? Were you watching them as well?”
“The redhead.” Rivero nodded. “Those two were a bit on the strange side. The husband, Dennis, was from Germany. He spoke with a heavy accent. He’d met Lucille in New York when he moved to the US. He’d decided to take a short vacation there before continuing on to Woodstock to join Ledwell. They had recruited him from a competing firm in Berlin.”
Steve understood now. Lucille was likely the FBI connection. Apparently, the Bureau had been watching Ledwell even then.
“I’m sure your friends at the Bureau told you they were assets,” Rivero said, echoing Steve’s thought. “It was actually Lucille who was the agent. Dennis was the target she turned once he was in position at Ledwell.”
“If the FBI had some idea what Ledwell was doing all those years ago,” Allie spoke up, “why did they allow them to continue with research and development that was not allowed at the time?”
Rivero laughed. “Well, Ms. Foster, if you haven’t learned this yet, let me bring you up to speed. The government works in mysterious ways. They were willing to keep an eye on Ledwell in hopes of making sure the government benefited. Besides, the CIA gets what the CIA wants. The trouble was, Ledwell was aware. They were very careful about what they allowed to be disseminated to the government. They used Dennis Reger to pass along what they wanted the Bureau to know. This, of course, was the CIA’s idea. The two agencies do not play well together. If Potter and Fraser tell you differently about any of this, it’s only because they’re ignorant of the actual facts or they’re in denial. At this point, I’m stunned the feds even still fish around Ledwell. They’re clearly getting what they want, or this would have ended years ago.”
“Did you warn my father that what he was doing by helping you might be dangerous?”
Steve understood she felt her family had been betrayed by this man, and they likely had been. But he doubted that her father had not been aware of the risk, perhaps not to his family but certainly to himself.
“He was well aware,” Rivero insisted. “We all were. He saw things that troubled him, and he couldn’t live with the idea of keeping those secrets. When two of his colleagues on the team died under suspicious circumstances, he was ready to do something.”
“Do you have proof of what he and the janitor saw happening?” Steve wasn’t sure it was even relevant at this point, but there was no statute of limitations on murder.
“I had what I needed to do my story.” Rivero didn’t actually answer the question. “I had photos and copies of documents.”
“Had?” Steve nudged for clarification.
“My office was robbed. My home. My car. They found and destroyed everything.” He tapped his temple. “Except what I have right here. They couldn’t take that because I vanished before they got the opportunity.”
Steve shared a look with Allie. This was the reason the much-touted story never surfaced. It was why he’d never gone to anyone who might be able to stop what was being done at Ledwell. Because he had no proof of what he believed—beyond what was in his head.
“Do you believe they killed my parents?”
