Whiplash

he got were another couple of shrugs. He said, "All right, then, so you weren't worried that your dad was in any danger. I would like to know what you and Benson think about what happened to Vice President Valenti."
    Aiden sat forward. "Ben and I talked about this while we were waiting for you. We've always known Uncle Alex to be a really good driver. Back before he won his first election to the House of Representatives, he and dad were drinking at our house to his last hurrah-and then he flew to France and drove in Le Mans. Dad said Uncle Alex could have tried his hand at racing professionally."
    Benson picked it up. "Yeah, he was a great driver once upon a time. But hey, Valenti's getting up there, he must have pushed the Brabus faster around that curve than he could handle. We all saw what that tree did to the car."
    "Your father told me on the phone that he doesn't believe it was an accident," Savich said. "He's scared and he's angry. He believes the car was rigged." He stopped, waited.
    "What?" Aiden asked blankly. "You're saying someone wanted to murder Vice President Valenti? That doesn't make any sense. Why would you murder the Vice President of the United States? I mean, they don't do anything, for God's sake. Is that really what you think happened?"
    Savich rose, splayed his palms on the conference table, looked at each man in turn, both older than he was but not yet grown men. He strongly doubted they ever would be. He said, "The FBI is examining what remains of the car carefully. We hope to know for certain what happened. Until then, I would appreciate your not adding to any speculation.
    "The fact is, very few people knew your father was going to lend the Brabus to Alex Valenti, so the vice president is not the likely target.
    "So, tell me, who, other than yourselves, do you think might benefit from your father's death?"
    Benson Hoffman laughed. "Other than us? Not more than a thousand people, I imagine. As I said, he's a politician."
    Aiden didn't disagree, just tried to look pained.

48

    GEORGETOWN
    Friday evening

    Savich played basketball with Sean until he nearly fell asleep waiting his turn for a free throw. Savich lightly wiped a damp washcloth over his face, put him into his Transformer pajamas, tucked him into bed, kissed him, and turned out the lights. He stood a moment in the doorway, looking toward his son's bed with its blue dinosaur quilt. The dim light coming through the bedroom window outlined his small body, and Savich wondered again, had David Hoffman looked at his sleeping boys and felt his heart swell?
    He was making himself a cup of tea while working on MAX in the kitchen, when the doorbell rang. He glanced at his Mickey Mouse watch. It was nearly ten o'clock. Because he was a cop, before he opened the door he called out, "Who is it?"
    It was Jimmy Maitland, and he looked harried and tired, near the end of his rope.
    "No coffee for you, sir," he said, and steered his boss to the sofa. Maitland nearly tripped over Astro, just emerging from beneath a big easy chair.
    Maitland leaned down and picked him up, settled him on his leg, and to Astro's delight, he began lightly rubbing his ears. He let out a big sigh. "The Valenti case is going to be a monster. I've spent all evening with the forensics team looking at what's left of the steering linkage. It was pretty cleverly done, a small charge tied in to the speedometer. They're still looking for traceable components.
    "I'm glad you're with us here on this, Savich, even if Sherlock is still up in Connecticut. You've done a good job already with that, caught Schiffer Hartwin cold with that planned Culovort shortage. They'll probably end up paying out a year's profit. Dice said chances are after they pay the fine, it's back to business as usual, like all the drug companies."
    Savich looked down at his clasped hands between his knees. "It's the murderer I want."
    "I don't blame you. It's better to have hope about something you can control, right?"
    Savich nodded. "Give me a murderer over a drug company any day. I have to say it's all coming together. Sherlock's got the bit between her teeth. You know Sherlock, nothing's going to stop her."
    Maitland smiled, then fell silent. Astro gave a little bark and Maitland rubbed his ears again.
    Savich eyed his boss, waited. "Tell me," he said.
    "I guess you haven't watched TV tonight?"
    Savich shook his head. "After an early dinner, I played basketball with Sean until I put him to bed. I was