61
1493 Words
“But did they meet?”
“They left at the same time. I saw no interaction between them while they were in the park. She was on her phone but he wasn’t.”
“And maybe they were going to meet but—”
“But then the guns and the bomb went off.”
“What do you think they were meeting about?”
“I have no idea. But I doubt it was about finding bin Laden.”
“So what do we do with this fresh angle?”
“If we try to go after her and she is being covered by higher-ups we might get our butts handed to us.”
“So we can’t touch her?”
“Officially, no. But there might be another way.”
“How?”
Herbert took out his phone and made a call. “Mirabel? I have another assignment for you. If you’re willing.”
The next day Mirabel and Caleb walked into the office of Marisa Mr. Green. They had made an appointment and Mr. Green was waiting for them. Mirabel had changed her appearance greatly. The hair was short and blonde, her face made up, her clothes European, her accent an authentic mix of German and Dutch. Caleb was dressed all in black and had his thinning hair slicked back. He had on square-cut spectacles and a bit of stubble on his face. He carried an unlit cigarette and explained it by telling Mr. Green it was the only thing that worked for him in trying to quit.
She lifted up her sleeve and showed him the Nicorette patch on her arm. “I’m kind of in the same boat.”
Mr. Green led them back to her large office on the top floor with windows overlooking Lafayette Park. The space was decorated in a manner that suggested Mr. Green had traveled widely, had good taste, and the money to exercise those heightened sensibilities.
“We’re just now back in our space,” she said.
“Why is that?” asked Mirabel.
“There was a bombing in the park. And gunshots.”
“My God!” exclaimed Caleb.
“You didn’t hear?” said Mr. Green with a surprised look.
“As you might have deduced from my accent, I am not from this country,” said Mirabel.
“And I’m an expatriate myself,” added Caleb jauntily.
“But the Americans like their bombs and guns,” said Mirabel. “At least that is what we are told.” She shrugged. “So it is normal, then?”
“No, it’s not normal, thank God.” Mr. Green leaned forward. “I have to say that your phone call has intrigued me. You want to bring green jobs from Europe here? Can I ask why since green has already taken off where you are?”
Mirabel made a face. “It’s the bureaucracy. The, what you call, red tape. It is killing us. Our business cuts across many different geographic boundaries. The EU makes all businesses jump through hoops that are often impossible and usually totally ridiculous. Our business model is good. Our technology sound. But if we cannot implement it?” She shrugged again.
Caleb added, “Now, I have some experience over here though I’ve been gone a long time. My friends tell me that America is the place to be. That you want green jobs. That the red tape is not so bad. That things can be done quickly and that there are also government incentives to do so.”
“That’s true. What country did you settle in?” she asked suddenly.
“France.”
She asked a long question in French. Caleb answered her promptly, throwing in a joke at the end that made her laugh.
Mirabel said something in German and Caleb answered her in German.
“I’m afraid my German is very poor,” said Mr. Green.
“Excuse us,” said Mirabel. “That was very rude.”
“You Europeans speak so many languages. Makes us Americans feel quite inept.”
“Your country is big, ours are small,” said Mirabel. “Language skills are a necessity. But your French is very, um, nice.”
“How can I help you?”
“We are in need of a presence, a footprint I think you call it, here in Washington. We want to build a factory producing our goods in the United States. We also h
ave IP patent and licensing issues that need political addressing.” Mirabel paused. “Is that the proper term? Political addressing?”
“Lobbying, I think,” commented Caleb. “And friends in high places.”
“I can certainly handle these matters for you,” said Mr. Green. “I have relations with many government people, and energy is one of my specialties. Can I ask how it was you came to me?”
Caleb looked embarrassed. “I’m very much afraid it had nothing to do with your reputation, stellar though I’m sure it is.”
Mirabel added, “We based it on proximity.” She pointed out the window.
Mr. Green followed her motion. “The White House?” She smiled. “Interesting due diligence. But I guess that’s one reason I settled on this space.”
“But then we also checked the records for your client list. It was very impressive and very much in our area of necessity,” remarked Mirabel.
Caleb leaned forward and tapped his cigarette on the carved wood of Mr. Green’s desk. “But it would be helpful if you could tell us a bit of your background. We want to get this right. Our business model shows a clear path to a multibillion euro, or dollar, rather, revenue point. We must start on a firm foundation. It is imperative.”
“Of course.” Mr. Green gave them an account of her background, education and work experience and items with which she could help them.
As the meeting ended she said, “For the sort of work you require I would imagine a ten-thousand-dollar-a-month fee. Understand this is applied to work done under our normal fee structure. For work outside that scope, more monies will be due. It’s all explained in our standard fee agreement.
“Of course,” said Mirabel. “That seems logical.”
“Where in Germany are you from?”
“Berlin. But I grew up elsewhere.”
“Oh, really? Where was that?”
“Many places,” said Mirabel abruptly.
Caleb added, “Quite cosmopolitan. And secretive she is.”
“Nothing wrong with that in today’s world where everyone is watching everyone else,” Mr. Green said in a light tone.
“We’ll be in touch,” said Mirabel. “Auf Wiedersehen.”
“Ciao,” added Caleb.
JUST IN CASE THEY WERE FOLLOWED, Mirabel and Caleb drove first to a restaurant and then to a hotel. They rode the elevator up and Mirabel opened the door to her room. Herbert and Anthony were sitting there waiting for them.
They gave the pair a detailed briefing of their meeting with Mr. Green.
“Do you think she suspects anything?” asked Anthony.
“If she’s really that good she suspects everything,” answered Mirabel as Herbert nodded in agreement.
“She obviously has a functioning lobbying business,” said Mirabel.
“We knew from her client list and checking out her history that she had that set up,” said Herbert. “But that does not preclude her having a sideline.”
Anthony added, “Or from the lobbying being her cover and spying being her main occupation.
Mirabel ran a hand through her hair and pulled off her wig. “Any idea what her angle might be?”
“As I told you, we suspect she might be involved with some plan being headed up by American intelligence.”
“And that’s why she was at the park that night?” asked Caleb.
Herbert nodded. “Exactly. The man I’ve had Harry following was potentially her contact. It’s just my theory. None of it is confirmed yet.”
“And the man Harry is following? What’s going on with him?”
“It’s up to us to find out.”
“Through Mr. Green?”
“Yes. But without her knowledge. I certainly don’t trust her.”
“But how does this tie into the bombing?” asked Caleb.
“I don’t know if it does,” admitted Herbert. “It could be that it was a coincidence they were both there that night. How did you leave it with her?”
“That we’d be in touch,” said Mirabel.
“So what has this really accomplished?” asked Anthony. “I mean, I know you blokes are good at this, but this leaves us nowhere to go with her.”
- Writer
