“How long was I out?” asked Berg.
“Maybe an hour,” said Devin. “I was thinking we could use some breakfast—and a lot of coffee. There’s a bagel and breakfast sandwich shop about a fifteen-minute walk from here. The food ranges from moderately healthy fare to a guaranteed heart attack.”
“Heart attack food sounds about right,” said Berg. “I just need to use the bathroom.”
“Watch your head,” said Devin.
The bathroom had clearly been an afterthought. About the size of a modest walk-in closet, it featured a toilet, wall-mounted sink that you had to lean your head away from when sitting on the toilet, and the smallest shower stall Devin had ever seen.
When Berg emerged from the bathroom, he pointed a thumb over his shoulder.
“We’re down to a single roll of toilet paper,” said Berg. “Unless she has a hidden stash somewhere.”
Devin shook his head. “I already looked. I’ll make a run for some basics later.”
“We’re not moving in, so don’t go overboard,” said Berg. “Speaking of which, where do you think she slept?”
Devin shrugged. “I think she slept in the recliner. I found a few blankets folded on the floor under the TV.”
“Clothes?”
“French wardrobe in the armoire in the living room,” said Devin.
“What does that mean?”
“About ten pieces she could mix and match to go from casual to dressy. A few pairs of shoes. It’s a minimalist trick.”
“Jesus,” said Berg, shaking his head. “But she had another apartment?”
“The FBI said it didn’t look like she’d spent any significant time there over the past two months,” said Devin. “They were light on the details.”
“So they’re looking for this apartment, too.”
“That’s what I assumed,” said Devin.
“And there’s no way the apartment can be traced back to your mother?” said Berg, looking slightly concerned.
“The building was purchased by a Nevada LLC, which Helen formed anonymously. One of the benefits of a Nevada corporation filing. I got a look at how she set it up when I reviewed the documents transferring the title deed to Henrietta Silver.”
“That was very generous of her,” said Berg. “What are your plans for Ms. Silver while we camp out here?”
“The effective date of the title transfer is forty-five days after her recorded death, so that gives us thirty-four days to work out of this apartment. I’m going to put Henrietta and her family in an Airbnb within the city, but far enough away from here,” said Devin. “I’m hoping that will be enough time for us.”
“It should be,” said Berg. “How do you plan to pay for the Airbnb?”
“I’ll give them ten thousand in gift cards and five thousand in cash. That should be enough for them to arrange a nice Airbnb or two and pay for incidentals for up to a month.”
Helen had fifty thousand dollars in five-hundred-dollar Visa gift cards locked away in her safe, along with what looked like fifty thousand in cash. And that wasn’t all.
“That’ll be more than enough,” said Berg. “Make sure they understand the stakes.”
“I think they do,” said Devin.
“Not good enough,” said Berg. “Make sure they do.”
“I will. I’ll make it clear when I drop everything off with Henrietta later,” said Devin.
The five-foot-tall-by-three-foot-wide safe, which had been built into the wall and hidden behind the bookshelf to the left of the hallway door, also contained a small arsenal, and an assortment of expensive, hard-to-acquire items when you wanted to remain off the grid.
A few semiautomatic pistols. A decked-out, short-barrel AR-15 that he suspected hadn’t been properly licensed. One of those new Scorpion EVO nine-millimeter carbines. Plenty of ammunition. Two sets of body armor and night vision gear. A nice array of person-to-person communications equipment, along with dozens of burner phones and a few more touch screen satellite phones. GPS tracking devices. Knives. Flash-bang grenades. Ketamine vials. Syringes. The usual stuff you’d find in your mom’s hidden safe.
“Sounds good. Let’s get out of here for a few hours,” said Berg.
CHAPTER 16
Harvey Rudd drove down the shaded, tree-congested street, keeping a closer eye on his phone than the road. He had no choice but to rely on the digital map to tell him when he’d reached the target house. There was no way to read the addresses without driving five miles per hour and gawking at the houses, which wasn’t an option in this neighborhood. CONTROL had warned him that a significant percentage of the Falls Church population either worked for or had retired from the government. Many of them from the very agencies his own country had fought against for several decades.