Page 55 of Grave Danger
“The six-billion-dollar ransom that was not a ransom?”
“And that was never paid,” said Isaac. “Those funds were frozen in Qatar after Hamas murdered twelve hundred Israelis and kidnapped two hundred more with Iran’s support. But it took a promise of six billion dollars to get five Americans released from Evin Prison in Tehran. And the point I’m making here is that the names of two of those hostages were never revealed, even after they came home.”
“Sounds like I was lucky to find out what little I did about Brian Guthrie.”
“Yeah. What do you know about him?”
“Only what his mother told me. He was an art broker who specialized in antiquities. It was his job to chase down promising artifacts and bring them to auction houses like Sotheby’s and Christie’s. He was scouting in Iran when the police arrested him.”
“The art trade in antiquities can be a sketchy business,” said Isaac. “Plenty of the objects that end up in penthouses in New York or London were looted. One of the most respected trustees at the Met got into hot water over that not too long ago.”
“I read about that. But I don’t think the State Department would prioritize the negotiation of his release from prison if Mr. Guthrie was an actual criminal.”
“No, but if he has less than a squeaky-clean record in a controversial line of business, that could be the reason the State Department is keeping his name under the radar. Especially if he’s become a pawn in a bigger diplomatic negotiation with the Iranian government.”
Andie had been thinking the same thing, but it was reassuring to hear it from Isaac.
“I’d be curious to know what the FBI databases would tell me about him,” she said.
Isaac’s expression turned serious. “Don’t do it, Andie. Margaret Guthrie contacted you because you’re Jack’s wife, not because you’re an FBI agent. This is not official FBI business. Accessing that database for a personal matter could cost you your job. You could even end up in jail.”
“I understand,” said Andie.
“Good,” said Isaac. “Pinkie swear?”
She smiled, and they locked fingers. “Pinkie swear. Goofball.”
A man hurried past their booth on the way to the bathroom and then stopped abruptly.
“Andie?” he asked.
It took a minute in the dim lighting, but the name came to her. “Dennis? How are you?”
He smiled at Andie, then looked at Isaac, then glanced at their drinks, and then smiled again at Andie—awkwardly.
“Um...,” he said, flustered. He was clearly under the impression that he’d stumbled upon something he wasn’t supposed to see.
Andie reacted quickly. “Dennis, this is my former supervisory agent, Isaac Underwood.”
The men shook hands.
“Well, great to see you again, Andie. See you around.” He hurried off.
“That was awkward,” said Isaac. “Who was that guy?”
“Dennis Devoe. He was Jack’s roommate all through law school. He works in the Justice Department. I’ve seen him maybe once or twice since our wedding, but he and Jack do a golf weekend once a year.”
“Does he think that you and I—”
“Yeah, Dennis would think that way. His ex-wife cheated on him for five years before he finally figured out what was going on.”
“Do you want me to follow him into the men’s room and straighten him out?”
“No. That’s way too defensive. I’ll call Jack and let him know I had a drink with my old boss after work. No big deal.”
“I hope this isn’t going to create a problem.”
“The only way it would create a problem is if Jack heard it from Dennis.”