occidental male typically associates with oriental ladies. This is why in the great and immutable melting pot of America, stereotypes are such dangerous stuff; they narrow your frame of mind, and shape your reference and behavior. The object of that stereotype can stuff it up your butt.
At any rate, this seemed like the right moment to put everything on the table. I informed her, "Cliff Daniels was under watch by the FBI and CIA."
She stared at me blankly.
I wasn't buying that and said, "I think you already know this."
"How would I know that?"
"You tell me."
She looked annoyed. "Maybe this conversation would move faster if you enlighten me."
"Maybe it would, but I wasn't informed."
"You weren't . . . You must have an idea?"
"I have better than an idea. Think of the one thing that brings these two brotherly agencies together."
"Oh . . ." She did appear genuinely startled by this news, then said, "Seriously, I had no idea."
"Now you do. And as a cop, you're aware that espionage takes it out of the hands of the Defense Department and into the pockets of the FBI and CIA. That briefcase is leaving with me."
She took a short moment and mentally explored her options. She had no options, but took a stab anyway and said, "On one condition."
"Did I give you the idea I'm asking for permission?"
"Just hear me out. Okay? Let's work out an arrangement."
"I neither need, nor do I want . . . an arrangement."
"Oh . . . yes, you do. We leave together with the briefcase, and we'll search it together." She put a hand on my arm. "This is a good deal for you. I'm both a military police officer and I'm assigned to the Office of Special Investigations. Suppose we do find something inside that case. I can get to the bottom of it faster than you can."
After a long moment, during which I made no response, she added, "My office reports directly to the Secretary of Defense, and we play for keeps. When we ask, people answer."
"Sounds like the Gestapo."
She looked me in the eye. "We're not that nice." After a moment she handed me her cell phone. "Call your boss. Tell him to cancel that call to the Pentagon."
"Her." I took her cell phone. "Give me a moment. She's going to throw a fit."
"Sounds like a tough woman." She gave me a sympathetic look and added, "I'll say it again . . . I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you in hot water."
She opened the glass door and stepped back inside, then moved to the far corner of the living room, where she crossed her arms, pretended to study the carpet, and I could observe her observing me.
I flipped open her cell phone and dialed Phyllis. Miss Teri Jung, her lovely and very affable secretary, answered and said to hold on.
Phyllis made me wait a full minute before she came to the phone. I sensed she was in an unhappy mood when she opened by saying, "Drummond, I am exceedingly unhappy with you."
"I understand."
"You had better be calling from your car."
"I understand."
"I'm expecting a good explanation for your silliness during that phone call."
"I understand."
"If you say that again, I'll--"
"Are you ready to listen?"
I heard her draw a sharp breath. I tend not to draw out the best qualities in my bosses. She said something I already knew. "This better be good."
So I succinctly recounted what I had observed and what I surmised, including that Cliff might have had a helping hand when he killed himself, that Major Tran was suspiciously territorial toward that briefcase, and that perhaps it contained something incriminating, or worse. Phyllis is a good listener--at least a patient one--and she did not interject or comment until I finished. Then she said, "This is curious."
"I know why it's curious to me. Why is it curious to you?"
"Well . . ."
We were already off to a bad start. "Start over."
Silence.
"Phyllis, I'm involved. Tell me what's going on here, now, or I'll let Tran walk out with that briefcase."
"You're too nosy for your own good."
She meant for her own good, but with her that might be the same thing. I said, "Three questions. Who is Cliff Daniels? Why are you and the Feds interested in him? And why am I here?"
"This is . . . inconvenient. I can hardly elaborate over an insecure cellular phone connection." After a moment, she added, "Had you been following the news you would have noted in last week's Post