Page 72 of Better off Dead

“And the third smoke bomb. The last one left in your workshop. You didn’t fill it with VX?”

“I don’t even know where it is.” Dendoncker pointed at Mansour. “He disposed of it. He didn’t say where or how.”

“You didn’t add anything to either bomb. You don’t know where the third bomb is. That’s the story you’re going with?”

“It’s not a story.”

I waited a moment to give him one last chance to come clean. He didn’t take it. So I said, “OK. I choose to believe you.”

“Then I can go?”

“In a minute. There’s still one thing I don’t understand. You want to blow someplace up and let Khalil take the fall. But why does that place have to be TEDAC? There are plenty of softer targets out there.”

Dendoncker was silent for a moment. “I thought, if I hit part of the FBI they’d take it personally. Leave no stone unturned. Make sure the fingerprint was found and—”

“No.” I shook my head. “Here’s what I think. You learned that there was some evidence against you at TEDAC. Something that hadn’t come to light yet. But that would. Soon. Then you were offered Khalil’s fingerprint. And you saw your chance. Two birds, one bomb.”

Dendoncker didn’t reply.

“I know what that evidence is. I’ve joined the dots. But I need to hear you admit it. And I want you to apologize. Do those two things, then you can walk.”

Dendoncker stayed silent.

I pointed at Mansour’s body. “Do those two things, or that’s how you’ll leave this world. Your choice.”

Dendoncker took a deep breath. “OK. The Beirut barracks bomb. I didn’t build it. But I taught the guys who did. They used parts I touched.”

“You were an instructor? That’s how you were in a position to pick the driver?”

“Correct. And it’s why I recognized your name when we first met at the morgue. You won the Purple Heart that day. I read about it afterward.”

“OK. And?”

“And I’m sorry. I apologize. To everyone who got hurt. For everyone who got killed.”

I looked at Fenton. She nodded.

“OK.” I stepped back. “You’re free to go.”

Dendoncker was frozen to the spot. His eyes were darting around wildly, looking for a trap. He stayed still for twenty seconds. Then he started toward the door. First walking, then scuttling as fast as he could go. He kept moving until he reached the Cadillac. He jumped in. Fired it up. And steered for the gate.

I pulled out my phone. There was a message saying I’d missed a call. I’d never seen the number before. But I knew exactly who it was from. Or rather, what it was from. Thanks to Fenton’s fishing expedition.

I hit the button to call the number back.

Fenton said, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Why wouldn’t I? If Dendoncker’s telling the truth, he’ll be OK.”

“He lied about not knowing where the third bomb is. I doubt he’s telling the truth about the VX.”

“Then that’s his problem. I’m still giving him more of a chance than he gave 241 Marines in Beirut that day.”

Dendoncker’s Cadillac stopped at the inner gate. My phone showed that my call had been answered. The gate started to crawl to the side. The gap grew wide enough to drive through. The Cadillac stayed still. The gate opened the rest of the way. The Cadillac didn’t move. Then its brake lights went out. It rolled forward. Barely above walking pace. Its horn blared. It trundled on. Slewed slightly to the left. And ran into a fence post.

Its horn continued to blare.

Fenton said, “Want to check? To be sure? Confirm he added VX to the smoke?”

---