Dark Waters by J.B. Turner

Author:J.B. Turner
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9781310221514
Publisher: JB Turner
Published: 2013-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

35

The first thing Deborah did when she got back to her condo was to call the university’s Office of Media Relations and ask to speak to Senator Sorley. Within fifteen minutes Sorley returned her call.

His voice was deep, his delivery slow and considered.

‘I’m sorry to bother you so late,’ Deborah said. ‘We were hoping you could help us. I believe you were on the Joint Inquiry into the 9/11 attacks, in your capacity as a former member of the Senate Intelligence Committee.’

‘That is correct.’

‘My boss is Sam Goldberg, managing editor of the Miami Herald. He mentioned that his sister Lauren used to run your office back in Wyoming, many years ago.’

‘Well, I’ll be damned. Must be fifteen years ago, maybe more.’

‘Sir, we’re trying to authenticate some important documents which have come into our possession. The missing twenty-eight pages of the Joint Inquiry which you were part of.’

Sorley said nothing.

‘And we were wondering if you would be prepared…’

‘You know, it’s funny. I argued vehemently that it was in the public interest. But we all came under enormous pressure, mainly from the White House, to acquiesce on that point. As a general rule, I think we’re far too secretive as a society.’

‘So will you have a look? I’d really appreciate it.’

‘Very well. Drop them off with my secretary. I’ll pick them up tomorrow afternoon.’

• • •

Late the following day, exhausted after spending hours at Sam’s bedside while he dozed, Deborah was checking her personal e-mails on her BlackBerry in the kitchen as Jamille drank some coffee, when her cellphone rang.

‘Miss Jones, I’m sorry’ Sorley said, sounding as though he might be afraid of being overheard, ‘but I don’t think I’m going to be able to help you after all. I think I was a tad hasty yesterday. Really, I would like to help, but this was an independent bi-partisan commission and I think I would be flouting not only convention but everything we stood for by helping you. I hope you’ll accept my apologies. Pass on my regards to Sam and his family.’

• • •

It was a twenty-minute drive to Sorley’s plantation-style house on Segovia Street in Coral Gables.

Deborah pressed the buzzer and wondered if anyone would answer. A few seconds later the door opened. Standing before them was an elegant gray-haired man in a dark blue tie and white shirt. ‘Mr Sorley, I’m sorry to bother you. I’m Deborah Jones.’

‘I thought I’d made myself clear, Miss Jones.’

‘Five minutes of your time. That’s all I ask.’

Sorley pursed his lips, then ushered Deborah and Jamille inside. They followed him, walking on a highly polished hardwood floor into a huge living room in which two pastel yellow sofas faced each other. Sorley sat down and Deborah and Jamille followed suit.

‘Sam told me you’re one of the good guys,’ Deborah said. ‘A man of your word. That’s why I’m at a loss to understand why you’ve changed your mind so quickly. All we’re asking is for you to confirm, one way or the other.’

‘How did you get hold of this?’

‘It started with the death of a young man called John Hudson.

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