“Jeff Royce, forty-five.” Scotty said, reading the file down in storage, as Lilly and Stillman looked on. “Born and raised in Philly. Graduated fifth in his class at West Point, 1970. Two tours in ‘Nam, then recruited into the CIA January ‘73. Retires with his wife and son to Philly January ‘93, ends up gunned down in Summerton Park nine months later, October 17th, ‘93.”
“Shot in the chest once, close range.” Lilly said, looking over a crime scene photo of Jeff’s body. “Bullet and shell casing matched an unregistered glock, never got a hit off it.”
“Looks like they zeroed in on Oscar Torres pretty quick once they found Jeff’s wallet at his place, and a needle in his arm.” Scotty said evenly.
“Not much you can do when your only suspect’s dead.” Stillman said, shaking his head.
“Looks like our vic was a hell of a globe-trotter back in the day,” said Vera, walking in, carrying a file of his own. “Afghanistan, Indonesia, some stuff in the Gulf, plus some time in Czechoslovakia, East Germany, and a couple of other countries that don’t even exist anymore.”
“Guy traveled to some of the worst hot spots in the world, winds up murdered practically in his own backyard.” Scotty said.
“Well if he made enemies, it was probably abroad.” Lilly said.
“Wasn’t able to find out much other than the guy bein’ a frequent flyer, though.” Vera said with a frown. “Looks like somebody took a black marker to the guy’s whole life.”
Stillman shrugged. “Well, good luck getting the CIA to unload its dirty laundry.”
“Well, maybe cross-check visitors or immigrants from countries Jeff visited, maybe we get lucky.” Scotty said.
“Maybe a couple of Jeff’s old co-workers could help with that.” Lilly said.
“I already made a call,” Vera said. “Jeff’s old boss is still shuffling papers down in Langley. Name’s Bob Garrison. Told him we might be stopping by.”
“Road trip, huh?” Scotty said, with a smirk.
“Well, try to have some fun in Virginia.” Vera said, smirking right back.
“You know, Nick, I think it’s been a while since you hit the road.” Lilly said with a smile.
Vera’s smirk vanished.
“Well that’s true, Nick.” Stillman said. “Think you’re well enough to take a trip.”
“Right.” Vera said in a monotone voice.
“You know, I think Miller’s free this week too.” Scotty said with a smile.
Lilly cocked her head innocently. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”
“It’ll be fun.” Scotty continued.
“Yeah, fun.” Vera said in the same tone.
“Well, you best start packing, Nick.” Stillman said with a slight smile, before turning to Lilly and Scotty. “I’ll be back in an hour. Got something to take care of.”
“Meetin’ with the brass?” Scotty asked.
Stillman’s smile faded. “Something like that.”
***
Stillman scanned around the nearly-empty tavern until he saw the fifty-something man at the edge of the bar throwing back a shot of whiskey. The man was out of uniform, something Stillman usually wasn’t used to, and had at least a few days’ worth of stubble on his face.
“John.” The man said with his slightly raspy voice, managing a slight smile as he looked up at Stillman. “I didn’t know this was your usual watering hole.”
“Hey, Pat.” Stillman said with a sigh as he sat down in the neighboring stool.
Pat Doherty waved the bartender over. “Joey, pour one for my old friend John here, on me.” Doherty looked back at Stillman. “You got some time?”
Stillman shook his head uneasily. “Not much.”
Doherty eyed Stillman suspiciously. “What, are you checking up on me, John?” He asked, not sounding like he had the energy to get angry.
Stillman put up his hands. “Just wanted to see how you were doing.”
Doherty looked ahead somewhere far beyond the wall of the bar. “I don’t know, John. How am I doing? My son’s in jail. His baby boy’s gonna be at least a teenager before he sees his father outside of a prison wall. I just watched a thirty-five year career with the department get flushed down the toilet, pension and all. Councilman Boone’s not even returning my phone calls anymore. Oh, and last week, Mary kicked me out.” Doherty turned back towards Stillman. “So tell me, John. How am I doing?”
Stillman nodded solemnly. “I heard. Where are you staying?”
“Motel in Kensington. I think the owner likes me, probably cause I’m the only guy who doesn’t bring hookers around.”
Stillman said nothing.
Doherty’s eyes narrowed to a glare. “You know, John, I wanted to blame you.” His gaze softened as he shook his head. “You, or Jeffries, or anybody but me. But I can’t do that, can I? No, I pretty much made this bed myself, didn’t I? And I don’t just mean the Johnston case. No, I’ve pretty much spent my life covering up people’s mistakes, and what’s it gotten me?” Doherty started to look far off again. “I let Matt skate on one drug charge after another, and he just kept on using. I tried to derail the Caceres case, and it blew up in my face. You wouldn’t believe how much of Boone’s garbage I cleaned up, got a promotion out of it, and everyone started talking behind my back how I didn’t earn it.” His eyes started to mist up. “I buried what Matt did, and it destroyed my family.”
Doherty looked at Stillman with a weary smile. “Now you, John, you won’t rest until the truth comes out, no matter what it is.” Doherty shrugged. “Maybe it’s having a priest for a brother. You know what my brother does? Sells used cars.” He chuckled slightly. “I wouldn’t even touch one of those junk heaps he sells.”
The bartender gave Stillman an uneasy look as he placed two more shots in front of him and Doherty. Doherty immediately raised his glass, and waited for Stillman to do the same.
“To the truth, and setting you free.” Doherty’s look suddenly turned bitter. “And God help you if you learn that too late.” He threw the drink back as quickly as he’d picked it up, then looked at Stillman, looking warily at Doherty.
“Have a drink with me, John.” Doherty said. “Who else will?”
Stillman sighed and threw back the shot.
Doherty smiled and nodded with approval.
Stillman pulled a card from his pocket. “Look, I know a guy in private security who owes me a favor. You can tell him I called.” He placed the card on the bar. “I know it’s not much, but it’s steady work.”
Doherty looked at the card, then back at Stillman, and shook his head. “Why are you doing this, John? I made your life a living hell, I sicked I.A.B. on Jeffries, got Miller reassigned.”
“I’m not interested in kicking someone who’s already down.” Stillman stood up. “Look, call the guy or don’t. It’s your life. Anyways, I gotta get back.”
Doherty stared at the card on the table, but nodded slightly.
Stillman headed towards the door, but stopped at the bartender.
“I don’t care what you have to do, but don’t let him drive home.” Stillman said, quietly.
The bartender nodded and Stillman walked out.
***
Walking through CIA Headquarters, Vera noticed Kat’s jacket was still done up tight as she adjusted her visitor’s pass.
“You know I’m pretty sure they keep this place room temperature.” Vera said with a smirk.
Kat sighed. “The way you were blasting the A.C. all the way here, I’m lucky I don’t have frostbite.”
“Well, I figure the one who did the driving gets to choose, not the one sleeping.”
Kat didn’t respond, but instead looked around the hallway. “If these walls could talk…”
“They’d probably have to kill us after.” Vera said.
Before Kat could respond, she noticed the graying blonde-haired man and forty-something woman approaching them.
“You must be our Philadelphia visitors.” The man said, shaking Vera’s hand, then Kat’s. “Bob Garrison, Head of Special Operations.”
Vera nodded. “Yeah, we talked on the phone. You were Jeff’s old boss.”
Garrison nodded back with a smile. “He was in the first batch of guys I ever recruited into the Company. Great guy. Listen, I’m sorry to inconvenience you, but something’s come up, so I‘m going to postpone our conversation for a bit.” He gestured to the woman next to him. “This is Bonnie McLaren. Until I get back, she can help you with anything you need. And she knew Jeff just as well as I did. I promise I’ll talk with you as soon as I can.”
Kat and Vera eyes Garrison uneasily as he walked away. Bonnie could only shrug. “I’m sorry about that. Things can be crazy around here.”
“So you and Jeff were close?” Vera asked.
Bonnie smiled. “He recruited me himself, trained me. Had me over for dinner with his family.” She chuckled. “I even used to babysit his son when he was little.”
“Sounds like you two were close.” Kat said evenly. “Must’ve been hard to see him go.”
“I was sad, sure, but he had a family. I could understand that.” Bonnie shook her head with a wistful smile. “That was a crazy time too. We had a new President, first Democrat in twelve years. The Soviet Union broke up just over a year before. No more Cold War. Some people actually thought the world might calm down after that.” Her smile faded. “Two weeks after Jeff retired, a guy with an AK-47 shot up the entrance to the grounds here, killed two people. A month after that, a bomb went off at the World Trade Center, killed six people.”
“Little preview of things to come.” Vera said.
“Yup.” Bonnie said, simply.
“So you and Jeff keep in touch after he left?” Vera asked.
Bonnie nodded. “We talked on the phone a little bit, especially at first. It seemed like he take any excuse to talk, or stop by, and not just with me, with anyone here.” Bonnie looked around.
“Something else you wanna add?” Kat asked.
Bonnie sighed. “I don’t think it was as easy for him to make a clean break as he thought it would be. I mean, it’s one thing to say you wanna move on. It’s another to actually do it…”
***
(“Losing My Religion”)
Bonnie smiled as she noticed the man across down the parking lot.
“Jeff? What are you doing here? I thought you were moving tomorrow.”
Jeff nodded uneasily. “I just had a few things to go over with Bob, clearing things up with some assignments.”
“I thought you said those were all taken care of.”
Jeff shrugged. “Guess I was wrong.”
Bonnie turned to see a familiar-looking car pull into the lot. Her eyes widened as she recognized the blonde-haired woman who got out.
“Jeff?” The woman said, looking at him.
“Sharon, what are you doing here?” Jeff asked.
“The real estate agent called, he said you rescheduled. Jeff, what are you doing here?”
Jeff shook his head. “I was just meeting with Bob about a few things.”
Sharon looked at Bonnie suspiciously. “I just found out myself.” Bonnie quickly said.
Jeff shrugged. “He just asked me to come. That’s all.”
Sharon stepped closer to Jeff. “You know why you married me, Jeff?”
Jeff looked at her, unsure of what to say.
Sharon sighed. “Because I’m the only person in the world you can’t lie to. Look, I knew what I was getting into when I married you. But I thought you meant it when you said you were ready to come home. You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, to me or to Jimmy.”
“Sharon…” Jeff started to say.
“When you decide where you wanna be, I’ll be waiting.” Sharon turned and headed back towards her car. “But not forever.”
Bonnie looked at Jeff, who lowered his head and sighed…
***
“So Jeff’s wife wasn’t too happy about him dragging his feet.” Kat said.
Bonnie nodded. “It seemed like their marriage was as solid as any for a long time, but I think they were starting to drift apart. I’ve seen this place do that to a lot couples. It’s not easy finding someone who understands what it’s like.”
“But Jeff did move.” Vera said.
“Yeah, they bought a house up in Libertyville. Jeff got a quiet desk job. Last time we talked, he said things were going well, but…”
“You didn’t buy it.” Kat said.
Bonnie shook her head. “It’s one thing to take a guy like Jeff out of the Company. It’s another to take the Company out of him.”
***
In the living room of the Royce’s house, Lilly and Jeffries noticed the fist-sized chunk of granite on the mantle over the fireplace. The young man of about thirty standing next to him gestured and smiled.
“That’s an actual piece of the Berlin Wall.” Jimmy Royce said. “My dad was there when they tore it down. Brought that back as a souvenir.”
Lilly smiled. “Is that right?”
“I think he was always fond of the city cause that’s where he and my mom met.” Jimmy turned to the fifty-something woman emerging from the kitchen with drinks. “Isn’t that right, mom?”
Sharon Royce, older but still attractive and confident-looking, nodded and smiled. “Yes, that’s right.” She turned to the detectives. “I was working over there when he was passing through after some assignment.” She looked back at her son. “I thought you said you had to get to work.”
Jimmy sighed, without losing his smile, and headed for the door. “Okay. I’ll stop by and see you tomorrow.”
Sharon looked wistfully as Jimmy walked out. “You know the older he gets, the more I see Jeff in him.”
“Sharon, we’ve heard Jeff might’ve been having some trouble adjusting to civilian life.” Jeffries said. “Maybe a little trouble letting go of his job.”
Sharon smiled. “Is that what Bonnie told you? Well, I guess she was partly right. Looking back, maybe I could’ve been a bit more understanding. I was an army brat growing up, so I knew what it was like to have someone be away for long periods of time. I guess once he decided to retire, I just figured I shouldn’t have to share him with that place anymore.”
“Once we actually got to Philly, though, I thought he started to come around.” Sharon’s smiled faded. “Anyway, that wasn’t what I was worried about.”
“What was?” Lilly asked.
“We threw a barbecue after we settled in to try and get to know our neighbors.” Sharon shook her head. “I knew his job might’ve made him some enemies, but I figured any he had would be halfway around the world. Turns out he had some even here. I saw that for myself…”
***
(“Shining Happy People”)
As Sharon placed the potato salad on the picnic table, Jimmy ran over to her.
“Are the burgers almost ready?” Her thirteen year-old son asked with a frown.
Sharon cocked her head. “A few more minutes. Why don’t you meet some more of our neighbors. Maybe you can mow some lawns if you still want that Nintendo game you were talking about.”
Jimmy sighed and looked over to his father, standing over the barbecue, speaking with a thin, faintly middle-eastern-looking man.
“Dad’s still talking to that guy?” Jimmy asked.
Sharon smiled. “We’re just trying to make some friends. Don’t worry. I’ll let him know you’re hungry.”
Jeff smiled as his wife walked over. “There she is. This is my wife Sharon.” Jeff gestured to the other man. “Sharon, this is Omar. He lives across the street.”
Omar took Sharon’s hand when offered and smiled graciously. “Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Royce.” He said with a slight accent. “You have a lovely home.”
“Our pleasure.” Sharon said. “We’ve been look forward to a chance to meet our neighbors.”
“Omar was just telling me he’s from Afghanistan, studied engineering there.” Jeff said.
“Really?” Sharon asked.
Omar nodded. “That was a long time ago, though. I came here for a fresh start.”
Jeff shrugged and chuckled “I guess we got that in common. Can I get you a beer?”
Before Omar could answer, he turned to see a dark-haired walking towards them, staring intently at Jeff.
“You,” the man said, pointing at Jeff. “You’re the CIA man, right.”
“Uhhh, yeah.” Jeff said, uneasily. “I used to work for them.”
“So what did you do for them anyway?” The man said with a smirk. “Overthrow democracies? Assassinate heads of state? Hunt down dissidents?”
Jeff put up his hands. “Look, I’m just trying to have a barbecue here, pal. I’m not looking for trouble.”
The man glared at Jeff. “What, you people cause trouble all over the world and you can’t handle a little in your own backyard?”
Omar recoiled as he got a whiff of the man’s breath. “You’ve been drinking, Roberto. I think it’s time you headed home.”
“You’re defending him?” Roberto looked at Omar incredulously. “After everything they did?”
“I’m just trying to get to know my neighbor.” Omar said, coolly.
Jeff stepped closer to Roberto. “Look, you got a problem with me? Fine. We can talk about it in private.” He said calmly. “There’s no need for anybody to make a scene.”
Roberto stared at Jeff for a moment, then suddenly took a swing at Jeff. Jeff immediately deflected the punch, twisted Roberto around, grabbed his wrist with one hand and pressed the other into his back, subduing him.
“Or you can do something stupid like that.” Jeff said, while Roberto grunted and struggled in vain to pull himself free.
Omar waved over two larger neighbors who had seen the commotion.
“I think Roberto’s had enough of Mr. Royce’s hospitality.” Omar said, frowning at Roberto. “Why don’t you help him get home?”
The two men nodded and took Roberto from Jeff’s grip and walked him out to the front yard.
“This isn’t over!” Roberto yelled as the men pulled him away. “I swear on my parents’ grave, you’re going to regret moving into this neighborhood!”
Jeff sighed and shook his head, while Sharon watched, uneasily…
***
“Lot of anger at a guy he’d never even met.” Lilly said.
Sharon nodded. “His name was Roberto Sanchez. I heard later he was from Chile, a professor over at Powell. Bit of an activist. He tended to drink a lot, so a lot people didn’t take him too seriously, but he made me nervous after that. I heard he tried to get us kicked out of the neighborhood. He even referenced Jeff in one of the rallies he used to organize at the park.”
“Summerton Park?” Jeffries asked, to which Sharon nodded. He turned to Lilly. “Where Jeff was killed.”
“You didn’t mention this to cops when Jeff was killed?”
Sharon shook her head. “It was a few months before. I didn’t think of it. And the police seemed so sure it was a robbery.”
“Maybe Roberto got tired of protesting.” Jeffries said. “Decided to take matters into his own hands.”
Lilly nodded. “And just when Jeff was starting a new life, his past caught up with him.”
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