What do you mean?
I mean the Secret Service is like any other big company. People get transferred around. Bosses make deals with other bosses to help their fair-haired boys. Or a guys having problems in one division so they move him somewhere else to see if hell do better.
Is that what happened in this case?
Engles shrugged. I dont know.
So who moved him into your unit?
Engles hesitated. Well, I heard it was Little Pat, hisself. Now I dont know that for a fact; its just what I heard.
Patrick Donnelly personally moved him into your unit? DeMarco was unable to keep the shock from registering in his voice.
Like I said, thats what came out of the rumor mill.
Why would the director of the Secret Service take an interest in the career of Billy Mattis?
Hell, I dont know. I also dont see what the big deal is here. Mattis passed all the qualification boards, and when I got to know him, I liked him. Quiet guy. Serious about his work. Mind always on the job. Not one of those guys who gets bored and starts watching skirts in the crowd.
So you didnt complain about the assignment?
No. I was pissed because I didnt have a say in it, but there was no reason to make a stink. I would have, had he been a fuckup, but he wasnt. Shaking his head, he added, Poor Reynolds.
Reynolds?
Guy who replaced me. He must be catching hell right now, lettin that guy Edwards get into position that morning. I saw him the other day leaving his house, fuckin newsies shovin microphones in his face.
Yeah, DeMarco said, feigning sympathy for poor Reynolds. But what about Mattis? How much hell do you think hes catching right now?
For what? Engles asked.
You must have seen the video of the shooting. How Mattis dropped his sunglasses right before the first shot was fired.
Is that what this is all about? Engles said, eyes blazing. Look, any man in that unit could have dropped something, or tripped, or moved the wrong way. Just because Mattis did doesnt have a damn thing to do with his experience or the selection procedures or who assigned him or any other fuckin thing.
Yeah, youre probably right, DeMarco said, sounding unconvinced. But tell me, how did you rate Mattiss performance when he worked for you, Mr Engles?
Engles, still fuming, took a breath to regain his composure.
Let me put it this way, he said. I had two kinds of good people who worked for me. I also had a few bad ones over the years but we wont waste our time talking about those. The first kind, the kind who eventually move up through the ranks, were the guys who figured things out on their own. They didnt always do exactly what you told them, but they did what you really wanted done. You understand what Im sayin here?
DeMarco nodded.
The second kind of good guy, Engles said, was Billy Mattis. He just plain followed orders. Every organization needs people like him, people you can always rely on to do what theyre told, but Billys rank and file, a frontline grunt, and he always will be.
What about his personality?
I already told you: quiet, easygoin. Raised proper, taught to respect his mama and love his country. He didnt have any close friends in the unit but he got along with everybody. He was a likable guy. I liked him.
How bout his politics?
I honest to God dont remember him ever expressing a political opinion about anything. I couldnt tell you if he voted Republican or Democrat, or if he voted at all. Engles frowned. Why are you asking about Mattiss politics? You people think he actually had something to do with the shooting?
Yikes. Of course not, DeMarco said.
I sure as hell hope not. That boy would no more be involved in something like that than Ol Bullet here would turn himself into a cat. Aint that right, Bullet, Engles said, tugging on the dogs collar.
DeMarco thought he saw Ol Bullet smile but the dog may have been choking.
DeMarco schmoozed around with Frank Engles another fifteen minutes trying to get him to remember nasty things about Billy Mattis. Nada. Billy Ray was the Muffin Man, Mr Goodwrench, sugar and spice and everything nice. And he probably was.
As DeMarco was driving back to Washington, picking dog hairs off his trousers, his cell phone rang. It was Banks.
Be in my office at one, Banks said. The FBI has something new on the assassination attempt and theyre sending someone over to brief me.
10
The FBI briefing consisted of a single agent equipped with a spiral-bound notebook, and DeMarco could see that Banks was disappointed. The retired general had obviously been expecting a Pentagon PowerPoint presentation with multicolored charts showing maps, shooting angles, and enlarged copies of lab reports.
The agent, one Gregory Prudom, was a man of medium height with regular features. His hair was short and brown. His blue suit, white shirt, and red-and-gold striped tie were bureaucratic camouflage. He was so nondescript that his own mother couldnt have picked him out of a lineup. At the same time, he had the air of a man who would hold the line if commanded, never giving an inch until directed to retreat. A titanium cookie cutter down at Quantico stamped out men like Agent Prudom.
Prudom started the briefing by glancing at DeMarco and saying, General Banks, I was told to extend to you the courtesy of a progress report but I was of the understanding you would be alone. May I ask who this gentleman is?
Courtesy, my eye, Banks said. I run Homeland Security. I have a need to know.
You do, sir, but does this gentleman?
Yeah. Hes one of my assistants.
Turning to DeMarco, Prudom said, May I see some identification, sir? DeMarco smiled at Prudom but didnt reach for his wallet. This son of a bitch didnt look like anybodys assistant, Prudom was thinking; he looked like guys hed brought up on racketeering charges.
You dont need to see his ID, Mr Prudom, Banks said. Youll take my word that hes properly cleared and with a need to know. Now get on with it.
Prudom sat a second pondering his options, looking Banks directly in the eye. He wasnt intimidated; he was just trying to figure out if bucking Banks was in the Bureaus best interest.
Yes, sir, he said at last, and opened his notebook. He flipped to a page with a few notes scribbled on it and said, We finally figured out how Edwards pulled it off.
Thats great, Banks said, but DeMarco thought he looked nervous.
The day the President was shot, Prudom said, the agents never saw the shooter; they werent even sure where he fired from.
Then what the hell were they shooting at? Banks asked.
The bluff above the river, Prudom said. It was the only place that provided any cover so they saturated it with bullets in an attempt to keep the shooter from firing again. They were unsuccessful, as you know, because the shooter fired a third shot after the agents opened fire, killing Agent James, the agent who was lying on top of the President.
After the third shot, the shooting stopped but no one could get up to the bluff right away to go after the assassin. The remaining Secret Service agents had to get the President into the helicopter so he could be evacuated to the nearest hospital, and two of the three agents accompanied the President in the helicopter. The third agent stayed at the site and
After the third shot, the shooting stopped but no one could get up to the bluff right away to go after the assassin. The remaining Secret Service agents had to get the President into the helicopter so he could be evacuated to the nearest hospital, and two of the three agents accompanied the President in the helicopter. The third agent stayed at the site and
Who was the agent that stayed? Banks asked.
Prudom consulted his notes again. Agent Preston. Anyway, as soon as the helicopter lifted off, the agent, Preston, called the agents guarding the five-mile perimeter around the cabin and told them to start moving in toward the shooting site. After that Preston went up the bluff by himself to go after the shooter. It took him half an hour to climb to the top and by the time he got there the shooter was gone. Or so he thought.
Whats that m Banks started to say but Prudom raised a finger silencing him.
Our forensic people arrived on scene four hours after the shooting but they couldnt find a thing: no brass, no footprints, no areas where the grass had been trampled down. Everyone figured Edwards had to have fired from the bluff, it was the only thing that made sense, but the Secret Service was adamant they would have spotted the guy. They said theyd patrolled the bluff right up until it was time for the President to leave, and the helicopter that was taking the President back to Washington had been hovering above the bluff until just prior to the Presidents departure. Everybody figured Edwards must have done one helluva camouflage job not to be seen on top of that bluff before the shooting, either that or he was the fuckin Invisible Man. Excuse me, sir, Prudom added for his blue language.
Go on, Banks said.
From the beginning, Prudom said, one of the guys in our lab said the shooting angles didnt make sense. He did a bunch of computer simulations, and kept saying that in order for the angles to make sense, the shooter would have to have been about three feet below the top of the bluff. Everybody blew the tech off, figuring his calculations were screwed up. Yesterday this tech got permission to fly down to Georgia, and he finds a hole in the side of the bluff, three feet below the top.
You see, Prudom said, excited now, Edwards had burrowed this hole it was about six feet long and three feet in diameter into the side of the bluff sometime before the President arrived at Chattooga River. He camouflaged the opening so you couldnt see it unless you were about two inches away, looking straight at it.
Jesus, Banks said.
Yeah, Prudom said, abandoning any attempt at formality, this bastard lowered himself over the side of the bluff, probably suspended from a rope, and dug a damn shooting blind into the side of a hill. Based on the timing of the Presidents trip, the arrival of the Secret Services advance team at Chattooga River to secure the area, and patrols performed while the President was there, we think he dug the blind at least a week before the President arrived. Then, just before the President arrived, the son of a bitch snuck in at night, right past the guys guarding the perimeter, and entered the blind. He hid in the blind the two days the President was fishing on the river with Montgomery and then and this is the really amazing part he stayed in that damn hole for at least a day after the shooting. He got away the second night when all the evidence techs had knocked off for the day, and he went right by the FBIs perimeter guards. Its the only way he could have gotten off that bluff.
I saw pictures of this guy Edwards in the Post, DeMarco said. He didnt look all that athletic. You know, kinda hefty.
It was the first time DeMarco had spoken, and Banks gave him a look that said assistants should be seen and not heard. DeMarco pretended not to notice.
Prudom shrugged. He was small enough to fit in the blind. We measured. And every chubby guy you see isnt out of shape either. Plus this guy was a hunter and he was in the reserve, which brings me to the next thing, Prudom said. The rifle he used was a Remington 700 with a Leupold Mark 4 tactical scope. We traced the serial numbers and found out it was stolen a month ago from an Army Reserve armory.
Banks looked over at DeMarco. Billy Ray Mattis was a member of the Army Reserve.
Which reserve unit was it stolen from? DeMarco asked.
Edwardss old unit. The one over at Fort Meade in Maryland, Prudom said.
DeMarco remembered from Billys file that his Army Reserve unit was based in Richmond, Virginia.
I thought Edwards was a hunter, DeMarco said. Why didnt he use one of his own guns?
He hocked em, Prudom said, because hed been off work so long. All he had in his house were a couple of shotguns.
And I suppose the Bureau is investigating the armory theft? DeMarco said.
Prudom nodded impatiently. Of course, along with army CID, but we havent come up with anything that ties it directly to Edwards other than the fact that all the weapons that were stolen were in his damn house. The .45 he killed himself with? It came from the armory.
Is the rifle the only physical evidence you have? Banks asked.
You mean besides the suicide note? Prudom said.
Yeah, Banks said.
Well, we found a receipt in his car from a gas station about thirty miles from Chattooga River. But the guy left nothing in the shooting blind, and when you think about it, thats also amazing. He was in that hole digging, eating, shitting, pissing, and shooting and he managed not to leave any trace. He took all his garbage with him when he left and while he was in there he must have been covered head to foot in some kinda suit because he didnt leave any hair or skin or anything else we could get DNA from. We didnt find the suit in his house, by the way.
Prudom closed his notebook. The good news, General, is that this helps the Secret Service. I mean its not like their procedures were sloppy or they were goofin off on the job. This guy Edwards may have been a whack job but he was good. Really good.
But how did he plan this thing? DeMarco asked. Banks almost gave himself whiplash as his head spun toward DeMarco.
What do you mean? Prudom said.
You said Edwards went down to Georgia the week before the Secret Services advance team arrived at Chattooga River, and thats when he dug the shooting blind. Howd he know when to go?
Were not sure, but this thing the President did every year with Montgomery always got plenty of ink. And obviously lots of people here in D.C. knew when the President was leaving and where he was going. The other thing is, we found out the other day that when Montgomery was at some book signing he talked about going down to Georgia to do some fishing with the President. We got that from his publicist. So to answer your question, we dont know exactly how Edwards figured out the Presidents schedule but we do know that planning for the trip wasnt controlled like the Manhattan Project.
After Prudom left, Banks and DeMarco sat together in silence a moment thinking about what Prudom had told them.
You know, Banks said, Mattis being in the reserve, same as Edwards, you need to follow up on that armory break in.
If the FBI cant find anything, I doubt Ill be able to.