“Money,” Gavin said. “It’s all lucrative stuff. That’s why I think it’s private enterprise, not some kind of government-sanctioned thing.”
“You ‘think’—but you’re not certain?”
“Intel agencies have done the same kind of thing, even worse. So I can’t be sure.”
“You’re right. We can’t be. But Jack’s still connected to this somehow, through Elena Iliescu.”
“Yeah. She wanted to kill him.”
“A personal vendetta? Or a hired hit for the Iron Syndicate?”
Gavin scrolled through his iPad again. “I mean, judging by her travel schedule and her income stream, I’d say she was definitely a professional hitter.”
“Hired to hit Jack?”
“Again, I can’t be sure at this point. But I broke into her cell network, and of course I have access to Jack’s.”
Gavin pulled up a screen with a video graphic and slid the iPad over to Gerry.
“Jack said the cops told him she’d driven in from Trieste, so I tracked her cell phone starting the day Jack was in London, eleven days ago. You can see her movement around Trieste, and, by the time stamp, you can see she picked up and headed to Ljubljana the day after Jack left London.”
Gavin reached across the desk and swiped the screen for Gerry, pulling up a new video.
“And here you can see Jack’s cell pinging in the city, and hers. Notice how closely she stays next to him—got within a hundred feet of him a couple times.”
“So she was definitely tracking him,” Gerry said.
“No question.”
“And she followed him up to—where was it?”
“Kozjak Falls. And actually, she got there ahead of him by about two hours. Here.” Gavin picked up the tablet and scrolled to another page and showed him.
Gerry examined the tablet. “She knew where he was going.”
“Maybe she tapped a phone or got a bug planted somewhere. But it wasn’t an accident she bumped into Jack up there.” Gavin cleared his throat. “Perfect place for a hit, especially if she planned on beheading him. I mean, not that I’ve ever done that sort of thing.”
Gerry leaned back in his chair, flipping through Gavin’s tablet. “The place is pretty remote.” He studied a police photo of the crime scene: picnic bench, ice chest, bone saw. “Let’s assume you’re right and this woman was hired to kill Jack. We need to find out why.”
“She would know.”
“And she isn’t talking, at least not officially.” Gerry sat up and reached for his laptop. “Maybe it’s time to arrange an unofficial chat with Ms. Iliescu. Find out more about the Iron Syndicate, and why they ordered a hit on Jack.”
“Should we call the Feds in on this?”
“No, we don’t have proof of anything yet to give them, and we’re still just making educated guesses. Besides, they’re going to want to know my intel sources, and neither of us wants that.”
“Agreed. So what makes you think she’ll talk to us?”
“Assuming she is a pro, that means she’s been hired by somebody for a chunk of cash. By not filing charges against Jack, she might be sending a signal that she’s looking for more money.”
Gerry woke up his computer and pulled up a list of phone numbers. “On the other hand, she failed her assignment, and that means she’s in trouble with her employers, so my guess is she might be looking for protection. Either way, I know just the guy who can suss it out.”
Gerry dialed a number, then held up a finger toward Gavin. “Excuse me for one second.”
“Of course.” Gavin’s eyes drifted to the photographs of the ex-senator posing with presidents, kings, movie stars, and business titans over the years. The most prominent one featured Gerry and President Ryan, close friends for many years and cofounders of The Campus and Hendley Associates.
A few rings later, someone picked up on the other end.