CHAPTER 12
Within minutes of Gibbs entering the interrogation room with the sleazy private investigator, he had him singing like a contestant on one of those bad reality shows. The man truly had no spine and the more he blubbered and tried to worm his way into Gibbs' good graces, the more Gibbs despised him.
It was one thing to be a hired snoop, doing the dirty work others didn't want to do. It was quite another thing to have no moral compass and allow your greed for the almighty dollar to dictate how low and despicable you would become. And in Gibbs' book, illegal entry into a home, a federal agent's home... his home was about as low as you could get. He stood rock solid, never moving a muscle as Bertrand Snarkovsky continued to grovel for his life.
"You have to believe me, Agent Gibbs! I had no idea it was your house... well, I mean I knew it was your house because I was watching you... but I didn't know it was you!"
"Why should I believe you, Snarkovsky?" Gibbs sneered his name like it left a distasteful aftertaste in his mouth. "What have you ever done in your whole, miserable excuse of a life that I would believe."
Gibbs was throwing out the line, letting it sit quietly in the distance between them. Waiting patiently for it to sink down just a bit before he carefully clicked the reel. The three younger agents in the monitoring room behind Gibbs knew this technique well. They each silently imitate the technique of an expert fisherman toying with the big fish to hook it and reel it in. Gibbs, unaware of their presence behind him stood completely still, watching his prey closely as the desperate man realized the bait was floating just in front of him.
"I... I've been in business a long time, Agent Gibbs... this isn't the first time I've worked for that woman... for Ms. Hart." He is sweating profusely because he knows what he is about to divulge could get him killed if her employer, Colonel Bell, ever found out. Gibbs jiggled the line ever so slightly, clicking the reel once... twice more; just enough to move the bait a bit.
"You think I'm interested in every two-bit divorcee who wants some dirt on her cheating husband?"
"No... no... I mean, I done work for Ms. Hart like your job..." he sees Gibbs' eyes narrow a bit and hurries to explain. "Of a sensitive nature... you know, people who probably shouldn't have been bugged?"
Gibbs lets his statement float on the stillness of the air in the small room. He wants the information, but he doesn't quite have Snarkovsky on the hook yet. He turns away from the sweaty man, letting out a sigh of boredom as if nothing he has to say is of any consequence. Then after a long moment, Gibbs gives the line another quick jerk, pulling the bait just out of Snarkovsky's reach.
"And you think... this sensitive work you did for her is of some value? Looks like you're just grasping at straws while your boss sucks you down into the quicksand with her?"
"You gotta believe me! I done work for her, yes, and I knew who I was asked to bug wasn't right. I kept recordings, photos... copies of what she asked me to get for her. I got it all! Even my conversations with Hart are recorded. Important people... doing bad things all for her and that Bell guy, her boss. Please just cut me a deal here, huh?! I'll give it all to you... everything she's hired me to do... just help me out here!"
The silence in the room was broken only by the three agents watching through the glass as DiNozzo reared back, pretending to fight the large fish on his hook. "Ga-Zing!"
Tim imitated his stance and pretended to be fighting a large fish on his imitation line, "Fish on! And it's a big one."
Ziva just smiles and watches their antics as they pretend to reel in the big one. "In my country we cast a big net and see what we bring in... but I can see how this American sport of fishing has its satisfaction."
From behind them, the voice of Director Vance interrupts their play as he enters the room unnoticed. "The art of fishing is all in the person, Agent David. Casting out the line, waiting patiently, toying with the line until the big one is lured into taking the bait. Then snap! The line goes tight and the struggle lasts until the fish realizes it has no way out."
"And that is just what Agent Gibbs has done, yes? Reeled him in?" She calmly engages the director in conversation as the other two agents quickly stop their fishing antics and come to some form of attention as they straighten their ties and stand up straighter than usual.
"Yes, that is what Gibbs is so good at, Agent David. Scary good sometimes because most of his fish never see it coming... like this poor sap."
They turn back to the interrogation room to see Gibbs leaning over the table, his intense stare burning holes through Bertrand Snarkovsky. He quietly demands to know the location of his hidden stash of incriminating tapes and photos. Snarkovsky is pushed back in his chair, pale and fearful as his mouth opens and closes in silent protest, looking much like a fish who's been hauled out of the water with a hook in its mouth.
Gibbs slowly slides a pad of paper and a pen across the table to the man, tapping it softly, but with emphasis. "Names and location, now!" When Snarkovsky picks up the pen with his trembling fingers, Gibbs continues, "I want the names of anyone Hart hired you to spy on... and don't even think about leaving anyone off that list." Snarkovsky begins writing as fast as his trembling hands will allow.
"But... but what about our deal? You said..." Snarkovsky suddenly stops writing as he realizes Gibbs never actually said a word about giving him a deal. The sly smirk at the corner of Gibbs' mouth says it all. He'd just given up his only advantage and Gibbs had played him without promising him anything in return. Gibbs taps the paper again and Snarkovsky sighs in defeat as he continues writing out his list.
By the time Gibbs is done interrogating Snarkovsky, the warrant is served and Tony and Ziva have returned with the two large boxes of micro-cassette tapes, compact disks and photographs. The effort was well worth the rewards as they skim through the list of names on the labels. It is a virtual who's who in D.C. politics... as well as a few international players. Gibbs knows he has all the evidence he'll need to ensure Hart is buried in the prison system for a very long time. The names on this list will go to great lengths to ensure that happens.
Gibbs digs through the tapes, CD's and photos, looking for one name in particular. "Did you find anything on a woman named Sandra Patterson?"
"Ah, yeah boss. Here's a CD with that name on it. Who is she?" McGee holds up the CD for him.
"Just a woman who got mixed up with Bell and paid for it with her life." He takes the CD out of the case and hands it back to McGee to load on his computer. The images that appear on the screen are graphic and disturbing and leave no doubt as to who murdered the young call girl... or who was involved in the cover up. Gibbs doesn't need to see any more as he snaps his fingers for McGee to eject the CD and hand it over to him. With this damning evidence in hand and the list of names given to him by Snarkovsky, Gibbs heads for the interrogation room.
The others start to follow, anticipating a blood bath when Gibbs confronts the snobbish high dollar attorney, but he stops dead in his tracks. The three almost run into him as they skid to a halt on his heels, disappointed as he motions them back to the files on their desks. "Nope... you three stay on those files. I want them cataloged as to names, dates, and content by the time I return."
The other two are smart enough to keep their mouths shut and scurry back to their desks, but not DiNozzo. "But, boss... this can wait, right? Seeing you tear the snooty M. Allison Hart to pieces is a once in a lifetime thing." He tries to sway his boss by giving him his winning smile, but it only earns him a head slap and a glare from Gibbs.
Gibbs continues on to the interrogation room alone, knowing his discussion with Hart was going to stray into territory that those three did not need to hear. At the monitoring room, he sticks his head in to address the audio operator, Phil Jenkins. "Hey Phil. Start the tape running then take a break. I'll let you know when I need you back."
"Yes, sir, Agent Gibbs." The young agent quickly punches in the code to start the recording and gets to his feet. He's been here long enough to know there were just some interrogations that shouldn't be overheard. Gibbs stands in the dark room watching his prey for a long moment before the door opens and he is no longer alone.
"You know, this information could turn out to be just what Hart needs for her defense?" Vance stands next to him, watching Hart pacing in the room next door.
"Yup, it could... but I'm betting her hired snooper is just sleazy enough to have stashed away an insurance policy... 'cause he sure as hell knew what he was doing was illegal."
"You thinkin' we should cut him a deal?"
"Never offered him one, Leon."
"But we need him to testify to... things a lot of people don't want coming to light."
"Maybe. Gut says he's scared of a bigger threat than Hart."
"Bell? Could be. He doesn't know he's dead yet?"
"Nope. Neither do a few of his mercenaries out there, but they'll fade into some country we don't have an extradition treaty with once they learn Bell is dead and Dean is in custody."
"You don't think their loyalty extends to Ms. Hart, here?"
"Would you be loyal to that woman?" Gibbs nods his head towards the glass with a smirk.
"Not unless I wanted to wake up with my throat slit. Gotta point there." Vance chuckles softly and then decides to drop a hint that he's aware of Gibbs' connection to Holly Snow.
"You gonna turn her against Dean for the payoff to your girlfriend, over the death of that hooker?" Vance doesn't look at Gibbs, but catches his slight tension at his question.
"Bell, Dean and Hart were into a lot of heavy stuff, but we won't know how much until we review those hidden records." He turns to look at his boss, giving him a steady gaze, "You got a problem with that?"
Vance returns his glare, not intimidated by him as most people would be. He knows what Gibbs is really asking. "No, I got no problem... long as its handled discreetly." He takes the tooth pick from its ever-present spot in the corner of his mouth; then hesitates by the door and adds, "But there are a lot of nervous people on the Hill that might be so I suggest you be careful, Gibbs."
He leaves his top agent standing in the dim room alone to think about that. Gibbs' mouth curls up in his trademark smirk before he turns his attention back to the woman in the next room. He was planning to interrogate her when he was done with Snarkovsky, but now he'll wait until they discover what treasures her paid blood hound had stashed first. As for the other insinuation made by his boss, Gibbs just smiles. His relationship with the infamous D.C. Madam will make a lot of people nervous.
This wasn't the first time Agent Gibbs conducted an interrogation that was top-secret. Vance will monitor the interview from in here... and ensure no one sneaks in and listen to this interrogation. Too many sensitive names may come up and the fewer people who heard them the better. Gibbs finally heads over to the interrogation room side where Ms. Hart was impatiently waiting.
Gibbs stands across the table from the woman he has come to despise; seeing her for what she truly is. M. Allison Hart was a heartless, conniving bitch who loved money and power more than her own self-respect. Hart is trying to portray the calm, cool high-powered attorney she has been for the past few years, but Gibbs' trained eye can detect the slight tic, her back a bit to straight, her head held a bit to high... her eye twitching just a tiny bit. It told him all he needed to know as he finally moves his gaze from her face to the file in his hands.
"You got reason to be nervous, Magda Hartrovnic."
"I prefer to go by my professional name, Mr. Gibbs."
"Its Supervisory Special Agent Gibbs, but you know that." He walks around the table, moving closer to her as he keeps his voice low and taps the file in his hand. "You just prefer to demean everyone around you to make yourself seem more important."
He sees her back straighten a bit more, knowing she is feeling at a disadvantage seated in the chair while he towers over her. He stops right next to her, close enough to touch, but keeps his distance so she won't have any grounds to throw up her sexual harassment claims at him again.
"All right... Agent Gibbs, if you prefer, you can call me Ms. Hart."
"Ms. M. Allison Hart. That tells me a lot right there." He opens the file, scans down a bit and then smirks at something he sees there. "You didn't start using that title until... you passed the Bar exam here in D.C. Why is that? You trying to set your professional image? Or was there another reason?"
"Is that relevant to this matter? I mean, you and I have been dancing around things for months now... why the sudden interest in me and my name?" She tries to take the offensive and put this back on him.
"It has nothing to do with me... has more to do with when you first met Colonel Bell, doesn't it?" He lays a paper on the table in front of her. "Right out of law school you interned with a member of the Senate subcommittee on Foreign Affairs."
"That is hardly breaking news, Mr... ah, Agent Gibbs. Is it now a crime for a young law student to intern with a government official to gain insight into the workings she plans to launch her career in?"
"No... pretty common actually. What is a crime is for you to have been on Bell's payroll at the time." He points to the page, which is a copy of a checking account statement from four years earlier when she would have been an intern. His finger lands on a large deposit of five thousand dollars and taps it several times. "That money was transferred from Bell's corporate account to you... and it's not the only one."
"Really, Agent Gibbs... you're grasping at straws here, aren't you? What possible concern can a payment for services from so long ago have to do with anything now?" She slides the paper away from her as if being near it was somehow more incriminating.
Gibbs walks around the table again, coming to stand behind the chair he normally occupies. He once again looks down at the papers in his file and slowly removes another one. He glances down the page, reviewing the names written there before he lays it on the table in front of her to see. Watching her reaction, he sees her eyes narrow and the thin line of her lips get even thinner as her eyes scan down over the names.
"If I'm not mistaken, the names on that list... or most of them anyway, are all members of the Senate subcommittee on Foreign Affairs. Some are on the President's Inner Cabinet... the Supreme Court... Congress..." As he speaks he leans on the table towards her, his finger stabs the names on the list.
"It... is an impressive... list of names, I agree." She tries to sound nonchalant as she sits back in her seat, unconsciously creating more space between them.
"A list of names you hired your sleazy private eye to illegally bug and spy on!" He drops his calm demeanor and the cold glitter in his eyes leaves her with no doubt he knows more than what this list of names implies. "Your boss, Colonel Merton Bell, hired you to get inside information on these people...WHY?"
"I have no idea. Why don't you ask him... oh, that's right, he's dead. Or that's what you said, right?"
"That's right. I saw him lying on a Mexican beach, dead. Which leaves only one possibility, Ms. Hart."
"What? That you killed him?"
"No, that you are gonna take the fall for all of the illegal surveillance and bugging of high-ranking government officials. It was YOU who hired that P.I.! It was YOU that paid that P.I.! And it was YOU who's fingerprints are on this envelope... on this money used as a bribe to ensure silence for Bell's deviant acts!"
He slams a photocopy of the envelope that had come from Holly's safe... the one used by Dean to ensure her silence about the murder of Sandra Patterson. Gibbs watches her face pale before his eyes as she recognizes the envelope.
"But how...?" She suddenly stops, then a knowing smirk curves up her lips. "The infamous D.C. Madam. Surely you know any pillow talk she tells you won't be admissible in court, right? You really should check your facts before you take the word of the biggest whore in the district, Mr. Gibbs. Dean did that, not me."
Gibbs has to physically remove himself from the close proximity to this woman and her smug attitude before he knocks her clean out of her chair. He turns away, walking to the one way glass and glaring at her reflection in the mirror. He knows Vance is on the other side watching and wonders if he has a similar smirk on his face. Suddenly Gibbs realizes... he doesn't care. He doesn't care who knows about his relationship with Holly... or who it makes nervous. A calm descends over him and he smirks back at the unseen man watching him.
"You got that wrong... kind of... Holly and I are... close, but she never gave me anything. She never discussed this with me either. All this information came to me from your hired snoop and people higher up the food chain than me."
He turns back to face her, his smug smirk still in place as he plays his last card. He holds up a compact disk and jiggles it back and forth in his fingers so the light catches the shiny surface. Hart's eyes are drawn to it and even though she can't read the label from there, she seems to know what it is.
"You recognize this? Maybe not... maybe Snarkovsky never told you about his insurance policy. This one piece of video tape is going to ensure you never see the outside of a prison for the rest of your life."
"You that sure you can trust the word of a degenerate private eye who has the morals of a sewer rat?"
"I don't need to trust him... I trust in this tape, that clearly shows you were present and helped in the plan to discard that girl's body after Bell killed her. How do you think the State Bar is going to feel about the high and mighty M. Allison Hart being party to covering up a homicide?"
This time, Hart remains silent and Gibbs knows he has her right where he wants her. He slowly approaches the table and slides and empty note pad across the table to her. He then retrieves his pen from his jacket pocket and lays it on the pad.
"Your only hope of not being tried for treason, espionage and crimes against the United States of America is this... I want the information on all... and I mean ALL, of Bell's assets, accounts, corporate shelter names and people who worked for him. This ends here and now, Ms. Hart, do I make myself clear?"
She stares at the pen and pad in front of her, trying frantically to find a way out of the hole this tough federal agent has dug for her. She finally admits defeat and brings her eyes up to meet the icy blue glare; seeing his hatred of her clearly for the first time.
"He's not the only one with an insurance policy, Agent Gibbs." She picks up the pen and scribbles down a quick set of numbers on the page. She then sets the pen down and slides it back to him. "I have a condo in Georgetown on Crystal City Boulevard, under my real name. There's a safe in the den, in the floor under the right side portion of my desk."
"And...?" Gibbs doesn't give an inch, but leans in a fraction closer now, knowing he has her cornered.
"Everything you want is there. Bell had me keep his records... legitimate and illegal." She again leans back, trying to remove herself from under the intense burning glare of the one man she has never been able to break. "Client attorney privileged information... so don't expect me to say anything further. I'm done talking."
Gibbs picks up the pad and pen, collects up the papers he laid out before her and slowly organizes them into this folder once more. She watches him, feeling his hesitation and wondering what hammer he is about to lower on her now. Gibbs lets the moment simmer then looks up to simply ask her the question that has been bothering him all this time.
"Why me? What interest could you or Bell possibly have with me?"
She hesitates, wondering how she could minimize her involvement in this portion, but then realizes it doesn't really matter anymore. "Bell took it personal... you putting him in prison... and in Mexico no less."
"I put a lot of people in prison... he just had the bad luck to be trafficking weapons to the cartels down there."
"And that's where he met up with Paloma Reynosa's man. They arranged to get him out of prison if he would work exclusively for them. When Bell found out they had picked him because of his connection to you... he realized he could serve two purposes. Expanding his weapons trade and getting his revenge on you."
"So he had you what... get close to me? Why?"
"I honestly don't know, Agent Gibbs. He asked me to find out everything you knew about Mexico... your time down there. I assumed it was because you had put someone connected to the cartel away... or something."
Gibbs glares at her for a long time, wondering if she knew the real connection to the Reynosa Cartel and was holding that information back to use against him later. She holds his gaze for a long moment, then lowers her eyes gives him the truth.
"Bell never told me why, Agent Gibbs. You never said anything to me that was of use to him and he was pretty pissed about that. That's why..." She stops and looks back up at him. "That's why he went after your friend, Mike Franks."
"And my father?"
"He wasn't even on Bell's radar until..." She stops again, realizing she was now truly digging her own grave if the fierce hatred in his eyes was anything to go by.
"You told him where to find my father?! YOU set my dad up to be gunned down in his own store?!"
"I had no idea that's what they were planning when I gave Colonel Bell that information! I swear it!"
If looks could kill, M. Allison Hart would have been on the floor in that moment. Instead of remaining there with her and surely doing something he would regret, Gibbs suddenly turns on his heel and stalks out, slamming the door behind him. Hart glances from the door to the impentrible reflection staring back at her and lets out a soft sob; realizing her life was over.