hadn’t decided to sit on the bench instead of going right home I wouldn’t even be here.”
“We still need to check,” said Gross.
“Check away. It’s all part of the public record. There’s nothing particularly remarkable about them, the usual businesses, trade associations. I have some foreign clients, but their businesses are mainstream.”
“Who were you calling last night?” asked Stone.
She seemed surprised by the question.
“I was in the park last night,” he explained. “And the park is also under video surveillance 24/7. You were seen on the phone.”
“Wow, Big Brother is alive and well,” she said casually, but her long forehead bunched into neat rows of skin. “Can I ask why it’s relevant who I was talking to?”
Gross said, “We can easily enough get that information. But you can save us time by cooperating. However, if you don’t…”
She looked at him with a weary expression. “I know, I know, then you think I’m up to no good. Look, it was just a friend.”
Gross poised his pen over his notepad. “Your friend’s name?”
“Do you really have to check that out? I mean, it seems silly. It was just a friend.”
Gross said, “Ms. Friedman, a bomb exploded across from the White House. No detail is too small in an investigation like this. And the question is not silly. Now, your friend’s name and the subject of your conversation?”
“It’s just a man that I know.”
“Name?” Gross said again, this time with a harder edge to his voice. This obviously would be the last time the FBI agent would ask politely.
She sat forward and her voice dropped. “Look, this friend I was talking to is married.”
“Okay,” said Stone.
“And so?” prompted Chapman with a malicious look.
“And not to me, obviously. And maybe we’re more than just friends.”
She did the leg cross, skirt flick again, but this time her hands jerked and she didn’t seem nearly as confident.
Stone saw Chapman shoot the woman a contemptuous look at this bungled ploy to distract. Even Gross didn’t drop his gaze to her legs this time.
Gross said, “We’re not really concerned with your, um, friend’s marital issues.”
Friedman sat back, relieved. “Okay, thank you.”
“But I still need his name and what you were talking to him about.”
She sighed resignedly. “Fine. Willis Kraft. He lives in Potomac. We were just talking about… personal stuff.”
“And his wife doesn’t understand him?” said Chapman, still gazing at the woman in disgust.
Friedman’s gaze hardened and she and Chapman did a brief staredown that the Brit ended up winning.
“I didn’t voluntarily come down here to be judged on my personal choices,” Friedman said to Gross as she broke off looking at Chapman.
“And that’s not what we’re concerned about,” said Gross quickly.
“So does it all have to come out?”
“As I said, your friend’s marital issues don’t concern us and we can be very discreet. Give me his contact information and we’ll take it from there,” said Gross.
She did so, and then Stone said, “The guy in the jogger’s suit in the park?”
“Yes, I saw him,” she replied. “What about him?”
“Did you get a good look at him?”
“Not really.” She wrinkled her nose. “He was so overweight I remember thinking he was the last person you’d expect to see in workout clothes.”
“Did you see the man in the suit with the briefcase?” askedStone. “He was over near the statue of von Steuben in the northwest corner.”
“No, I don’t think so. There are some trees there. And even with the park lights it was dark.”
“Yes, it was,” agreed Stone. “But you left about the same time heading toward H Street.”
“I wasn’t aware of his movements. I was fumbling in my bag for my metro card.”
“McPherson Square?” asked Stone quickly. “Or Farragut West station?”
“McPherson. It’s a bit closer to the park. I live in Falls Church. I don’t own a car,
“We still need to check,” said Gross.
“Check away. It’s all part of the public record. There’s nothing particularly remarkable about them, the usual businesses, trade associations. I have some foreign clients, but their businesses are mainstream.”
“Who were you calling last night?” asked Stone.
She seemed surprised by the question.
“I was in the park last night,” he explained. “And the park is also under video surveillance 24/7. You were seen on the phone.”
“Wow, Big Brother is alive and well,” she said casually, but her long forehead bunched into neat rows of skin. “Can I ask why it’s relevant who I was talking to?”
Gross said, “We can easily enough get that information. But you can save us time by cooperating. However, if you don’t…”
She looked at him with a weary expression. “I know, I know, then you think I’m up to no good. Look, it was just a friend.”
Gross poised his pen over his notepad. “Your friend’s name?”
“Do you really have to check that out? I mean, it seems silly. It was just a friend.”
Gross said, “Ms. Friedman, a bomb exploded across from the White House. No detail is too small in an investigation like this. And the question is not silly. Now, your friend’s name and the subject of your conversation?”
“It’s just a man that I know.”
“Name?” Gross said again, this time with a harder edge to his voice. This obviously would be the last time the FBI agent would ask politely.
She sat forward and her voice dropped. “Look, this friend I was talking to is married.”
“Okay,” said Stone.
“And so?” prompted Chapman with a malicious look.
“And not to me, obviously. And maybe we’re more than just friends.”
She did the leg cross, skirt flick again, but this time her hands jerked and she didn’t seem nearly as confident.
Stone saw Chapman shoot the woman a contemptuous look at this bungled ploy to distract. Even Gross didn’t drop his gaze to her legs this time.
Gross said, “We’re not really concerned with your, um, friend’s marital issues.”
Friedman sat back, relieved. “Okay, thank you.”
“But I still need his name and what you were talking to him about.”
She sighed resignedly. “Fine. Willis Kraft. He lives in Potomac. We were just talking about… personal stuff.”
“And his wife doesn’t understand him?” said Chapman, still gazing at the woman in disgust.
Friedman’s gaze hardened and she and Chapman did a brief staredown that the Brit ended up winning.
“I didn’t voluntarily come down here to be judged on my personal choices,” Friedman said to Gross as she broke off looking at Chapman.
“And that’s not what we’re concerned about,” said Gross quickly.
“So does it all have to come out?”
“As I said, your friend’s marital issues don’t concern us and we can be very discreet. Give me his contact information and we’ll take it from there,” said Gross.
She did so, and then Stone said, “The guy in the jogger’s suit in the park?”
“Yes, I saw him,” she replied. “What about him?”
“Did you get a good look at him?”
“Not really.” She wrinkled her nose. “He was so overweight I remember thinking he was the last person you’d expect to see in workout clothes.”
“Did you see the man in the suit with the briefcase?” askedStone. “He was over near the statue of von Steuben in the northwest corner.”
“No, I don’t think so. There are some trees there. And even with the park lights it was dark.”
“Yes, it was,” agreed Stone. “But you left about the same time heading toward H Street.”
“I wasn’t aware of his movements. I was fumbling in my bag for my metro card.”
“McPherson Square?” asked Stone quickly. “Or Farragut West station?”
“McPherson. It’s a bit closer to the park. I live in Falls Church. I don’t own a car,
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