Valley of Spies by Keith Yocum

Author:Keith Yocum [Yocum, Keith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780997870831
Publisher: Kindle Press
Published: 2019-05-31T16:00:00+00:00

With all his years wrestling with complicated investigations, Dennis had grown to expect anything from a cornered suspect. Once, after Dennis accused the Thailand station chief of embezzling agency funds to pamper his Thai girlfriend, the man reached into his desk, pulled out a .32-caliber revolver and placed it against his temple. Dennis barely had time to knock the pistol out of the man’s hand.

So, he was completely unprepared for Keating’s reaction to being called a liar.

“You enjoy ruining people’s lives, don’t you, Cunningham?!” Keating yelled, spittle flying out of his mouth. “So, they sent you to do the deed? Well, fuck them and fuck you. I’ve spent my whole career here, busting my ass to help this damn organization get out of its own way. And this is how they want to drop the ax? Away from prying eyes. Down in an abandoned office, with an asshole from OIG?”

Keating covered his eyes with his hands, apparently trying to block out the site of his interrogator.

“Keating,” Dennis said quietly. “What were you doing in Charlottesville? Or were you even in Charlottesville?”

Keating kept his hands over his eyes and gulped several deep, measured breaths.

“Don’t be mean,” Keating said, his voice suddenly soft and weak. “I can’t even look at you. The grim reaper cleaning out the agency of broken pieces. Nice work, Cunningham. You’ll burn in hell if they’ll even take you there.”

Dennis tried again.

“Can you tell me about Charlottesville?”

Keating remained sitting behind the desk with his hands covering his eyes, breathing slowly. Dennis wondered idly whether Keating was capable of violence.

“Why do you act like you don’t know?” Keating said. “Why do you have to be so cruel? You seem good at this stuff. You must really like it. You’re a strange man, Cunningham.”

“Put your hands down please, Keating. Come on. Look at me.”

Keating dropped his hands slowly. Dennis could see that his eyes were wet.

“Charlottesville,” Dennis repeated.

“You’re serious? You want me to play along?”

“Yes, play along. Tell me about Charlottesville.”

“Well,” Keating said in a sing-song, mocking voice, “I was there for two weeks, and it was just like the last time. But you already know that. And, yes, it was helpful. And yes, I didn’t tell the agency. It’s never fun there, but, well there you go. Happy now?”

Dennis was utterly confused, and he kept bluffing. “Just tell me the name of the place. Let’s start there.”

“Right,” Keating said. “I’m playing along to make it official. OK. It’s called The Macon Center. Dr. Forrester had recommended it. It was my second time.”

“Why did Dr. Forrester recommend it?”

“It’s ultra-private. I could pay out of pocket. No money trail.”

“For what kind of treatment?” Dennis said.

Keating put his hands behind his neck and arched back, looking at the ceiling tiles.

“Depression. Severe depression. They still use ECT there, which Forrester still believed in.”

“ECT, help me on that one,” Dennis said.

“Oh, I get it,” Keating said. “You must be recording this; that’s why you’re making me go over all this stuff that you already know.

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