The President's Henchman by Joseph Flynn Read Free Book Online

won’t do it, Andy.”
    Andy sighed and nodded. “I don’t like the idea of being run out of my house, either.”
    “We’ll keep the security men.”
    “Or let them go if they bother you too much.”
    They carried their food and drinks outside, nibbled for a while without talking.
    Finally, Patti asked, “You like him, don’t you?”
    “The chief?” Andy asked. “Yes, I do. He’s smart, honest, has a ton of experience. His professional accomplishments aside, everybody I’ve talked to about him says he’s a good man and a devoted father. He has three kids, two girls and a boy.”
    That hit home. Both Patti and Andy were infertile. Their shared sense of personal regret was one big reason why the Grant Foundation sent millions of dollars each year to organizations with proven records of bettering the lives of children in need.
    “Good for him,” Patti said, and left it at that.
     
    After Labor Day, Congresswoman Grant returned to Washington when the House of Representatives reconvened. She declined Andy’s suggestion of having a bodyguard accompany her, and he didn’t push it too hard. By that time, he was beginning to have doubts, too, that the threat against his life had been real.
    Chief McGill still thought it was, but even the most astute professional made mistakes. Andy dismissed the security force at his house, thinking it would make a nice surprise for Patti, the next time she came home, to have the house to themselves. He didn’t notify the chief of his action; he didn’t want to debate the matter any more.
    Andy kept the new armored Mercedes and the chauffeur who’d been trained in evasive driving. He varied his routine. He was alert to his surroundings. But that was it. He just wasn’t going to be afraid all the time. It took all the joy out of life.
    He was killed three days after he let his security people go.
    The attack came from the lake. Nobody had to storm the beach. The night was still, the lake was flat, and a cabin cruiser was used as a shooting platform. From a point just outside the barrier, a rocket-propelled grenade was fired through Andy and Patti’s bedroom window.
    Second floor at the left corner of the house.
     
    When he got the news of an explosion at the Grant house — a terrified neighbor had called the village police — McGill wanted to kill someone himself. “Goddamnit, goddamnit, goddamnit!” he roared, and slammed the phone down without thinking.
    Klara, his dispatcher, called back and told McGill that Sweetie was on the way to his house. ETA five minutes. While he got dressed, he told Klara to make sure every one of his thirty-six sworn officers was out on the street. He ordered that the Village of Winnetka be sealed. Absolutely no one was to leave his jurisdiction without his permission.
    He also told Klara to make sure that every cop in the country — and Canada — got the word of what had happened. But he was not yet able to tell his brother officers for whom they should be on the lookout. Then the brief whoop of a police patrol unit announced Sweetie’s arrival.
    McGill lived in the northwest corner of Evanston, two gilded suburbs down the social ladder from Winnetka and the Grant estate. Fifteen minutes away in normal traffic. Less at that time of night. Much less at the speed Sweetie was driving.
    But there was still plenty of time for Sweetie to tell him.
    “The neighbor who phoned in the report said the explosion was in Mr. Grant’s bedroom. Apparently, he has a clear view of the Grant’s place from his house. He was embarrassed when he had to admit he knew what the room was. But you live next door to a former movie star’s boudoir…”
    Sweetie shrugged at human foibles.
    “Did he see any sign of life after the blast?” McGill asked.
    “Klara asked about that. The neighbor said no.”
    “Had anyone noticed if Mr. Grant was home tonight?
    Sweetie nodded. “The neighbor. Saw him in his bedroom before the light was turned