26
1044 Words
“Initially he didn’t want you to know. But when I told him I don’t keep things from my partner he agreed with my decision to tell you.”
Anthony studied him closely, evidently trying to determine if he were telling the truth. “Good, enough said on the subject.”
“So where were you this morning?” asked Herbert.
She looked sheepish. “I was actually having a lie-in. I’ve had about two hours’ sleep in the last forty-eight, and the jet lag really kicked in. I was a bit knackered. And I didn’t think I could manage to be much help when I could barely stay awake.”
Herbert glanced over and saw Agent Garchik striding toward them. “Maybe he’ll have some answers.”
They met him at the barriers and followed Garchik back to ground zero. The ATF agent’s expression was both curious and concerned.
“You have some developments?” prompted Herbert.
Garchik nodded as he stared down at the crater. “You could say that. Those pieces of leather we found came from a Wilson basketball.”
“A basketball!” exclaimed Anthony.
“You’re sure it was involved in the explosion?” Herbert asked.
“I can’t think of another reason why bits of a basketball would be in Lafayette Park. And the scorch marks showed they were quite near the blast seat. You could say right on top of it.”
They all looked down at the hole.
“Your conclusion?” Herbert asked.
“I think the bomb could very well have been in the basketball and the ball was placed inside the root ball of the maple. That location would tally with the debris field and other indicators we found.”
“A bomb in a basketball?” said Anthony.
“It would work,” said Garchik. “And it’s been done before by a few people, all dead now. Cut it open, put the bomb inside, reseal it, pump it up so that if anyone held it, it would feel legit. I wouldn’t advise dribbling the sucker, though.”
“How was it detonated?” asked Herbert.
“Remotely would be my best guess, right now. Not a timer.”
Herbert said, “But we have information that the bomb dogs had patrolled the site the night of the bombing. Wouldn’t they have sensed it? You said they couldn’t be fooled by anything.”
“They can’t. But they do have limits.”
“What exactly are those limits?” asked Anthony.
“Typical scent radius for the dogs is about three feet in all directions aboveground. And they can sniff out explosives buried up to roughly the same distance belowground.” Garchik pointed at the crater. “This hole before the bomb went off was over four feet deep and well over eight feet across.”
“But uncovered,” Herbert pointed out.
“Yeah, but the root ball was huge. Six feet wide by over three feet high.”
Herbert realized something. “And there was yellow warning tape up cordoning off this area. So the dogs might not have gotten within ten feet of it.”
“That’s
right,” said Garchik. “So whether the bomb was here when they made their pass or not, chances are good they wouldn’t have detected it unless their handlers took them past the tape and let them climb right on top of the root ball. Which I sort of doubt was the case.”
Herbert’s gaze immediately swung toward the White House. “Then we need to talk to the people who installed it as soon as possible. But first we need to look at the video.”
“Video?” said Anthony.
“The video feed will show when that tree went in and who did it. It will also show if anyone went back in there afterward. And what they had with them. Like a bag big enough to place a basketball in.”
Garchik said, “It would be pretty hard to slip a basketball inside a root ball and not have someone see you. There’s a burlap sack around it to hold the dirt and roots together, but it would still be complicated. You’d have to get the ball there somehow, get down into the hole, slit the sack, put the ball in and somehow patch the sack back up.”
Anthony added, “And he couldn’t exactly waltz it past the White House guards. I’m assuming the workers have to go through checkpoints.”
“Yes, they do,” answered Herbert. “And I would imagine an X-ray of the basketball would reveal the bomb inside?”
“Absolutely,” said Garchik.
“Then if one of the groundspeople was involved he didn’t take the ball through White House security.” He looked around. “But he could have come directly to the park to begin work on the tree. Someone could have given him the ball then. The White House wouldn’t be involved at all.”
“Which would be captured on the video,” said Garchik. “We’ll have to check that angle, but it seems way too easy to detect on our part.”
Herbert said, “Which means we’re missing something.” He looked down at the crater. “Let’s check that video feed. Right now.”
A few minutes later they were standing in the FBI’s command post on Jackson Place. They had called in two Secret Service agents, who huddled with them around the large TV screen. The feed they would be looking at had come from the Secret Service’s archives.
“We keep the images for a minimum of fifteen years,” explained one of the Secret Service agents.
“You’re not the only agency with electronic eyes on the park, though,” said Herbert.
The same agent smiled. “We all have peepers on our little slice of Hell’s Corner. In an ideal world we all share what we see, but this is far from an ideal world.”
“What exactly are you looking for?” asked the other agent.
Herbert explained about the tree being planted, and also about the bomb dog going near the tree.
- Writer
