"So let me get this straight – Francine made a joke, Amanda used that joke to come up with a fake name, you then accidentally used the same fake name for a cover and now James Delano thinks you're Leland Cassidy, the multi-billionaire recluse owner of Dynamica Industries, one of the biggest defense companies this side of the Mississippi?"
Lee's was sitting in Billy's office, bent forward with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. "Yes," came the muffled answer.
Efraim, it turned out, had been a fount of information on Leland Cassidy – or at least as much of a fount as anyone could be about a man who guarded his privacy more thoroughly than Fort Knox. As near as they could tell, Lee's age was about right so that was a point in their favor. Cassidy had inherited his fortune from an industrialist father in his early twenties, but even then he had been an enigma, a man hidden throughout his entire childhood by parents who remembered the Lindbergh kidnapping all too well and made sure that he lived a shadow existence far from the limelight, growing up in the Australian outback. On reaching adulthood, Cassidy had obviously decided that this kind of anonymity was a godsend and had rarely been seen in public. There were no known photos of him, no stories of relationships or children or friends. Nothing at all really except the occasional word of mouth tidbit that he'd been seen canoeing down the Amazon or a rumor he was scaling Mount Everest. Even his parents' funerals had been completely private affairs, held on the grounds of their massive estate in Delaware. ("From what I can see, it's big enough that it might actually be the state of Delaware," Efraim had joked.)
There was a long silence and then Billy began to chuckle, which quickly turned into full-blown wheezing guffaws as he leaned back in his office chair.
"You're not mad?" asked Lee, looking up at his boss hopefully.
"Well you didn't do it on purpose, did you?" asked Billy, still chuckling. "And if we'd been looking for a better cover to get inside whatever Hollander is up to with trading information of the Pershing missile sites, we couldn't have found one."
"But is it a good cover?" asked Lee, worriedly. "We don't use the names of real people for a reason, especially not famous people! What if Hollander knows Cassidy? Or knows someone that does? All it's going to take is one guy who met him in the Andes once and it's game over."
Billy shrugged. "Worse comes to worst, you pretend to come clean as a con man who's just been attending parties to score the free food and grift a few people. But it's only for a few days – I'm sure we can keep anyone from finding out that you're not the real Leland Cassidy." He leaned forward again and started flipping through the slim file Lee had brought him. "You say Delano was keen on meeting you again? Why do you think he'd want that? I'm still confused about how a fast-food magnate ended up in the middle of a military intelligence case."
"Would you believe chicken feed?" answered Lee with a wry look. "From what Singer told me last night, Delano's incredibly overextended right now and completely dependent on Hollander's money to stay afloat. So he might be looking for investment or he might be looking for some kind of prize he can hand Hollander to get off his hook. He's pretty skeevy – like some kind of wannabe Colonel Sanders. I didn't like him and I don't think Amanda did either."
"Well, we all know colonels aren't your favorite people," Billy couldn't resist responding. He glanced up at Lee's grumpy expression, then looked down at the file again, lips twitching. "So, speaking of Amanda, it says here he approached her first?"
"Yeah, I was barely out of the room ten minutes and he was on her like white on rice," said Lee in as neutral a tone as he could manage.
"So he's got good taste then," said Billy, trying not to laugh at the pained look Lee gave him. "Think we can use that?"
"Absolutely not!" said Lee quickly. "There is no need to involve her in this, Billy! This isn't a job for a civilian!"
"You should have thought of that before you took her to the party," Billy teased him, then turned more sober when he realized from Lee's expression that he was already blaming himself for that. "But seriously, Scarecrow, why not use her if she could be useful? If Delano has a weakness for beautiful women, you could get a lot done if she's helping you distract him."
"Billy, the man is working with someone who murdered a fully trained agent, for God's sake! And the last time you thought she'd be useful, she ended up in the middle of a palace coup!And then a hospital!" Lee had sat bolt upright and was now full on glaring at Billy across the desk, jabbing a finger at him for emphasis.
"Okay, point taken," Billy waved his hand. "You can take this one on your own. Meet him for that dinner he asked for and see what you can pry out of him and we'll sweep his house while you're out. And we'll get together as much intel as we can on the real Leland Cassidy so that you don't trip over anything unexpected."
"Will do." Lee stood up and stretched. "I think I might enjoy getting to play billionaire playboy for a few days."
"Married billionaire playboy," Billy reminded him with another wheezing chuckle. "That could be a useful aspect actually, if he or Hollander think they can get you into a compromising position."
"More fool them," grinned Lee. "My wife is a very understanding woman when it comes to my playboy ways."
"Is she indeed?" Billy grinned.
"Actually yes," said Lee, recalling that conversation in the car earlier. "I think she understands me better than I do myself sometimes." He shook himself and gave Billy a quick look. "I'll see you in the morning – I should have everything I need to brief you by 10."
Billy hummed thoughtfully to himself as he watched Lee stride away across the bullpen. "Won't disagree with you there, Scarecrow. You have a perfect wife."