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Katrina for a few brief seconds, then he and I traded pugnacious glares, as we opposing attorneys are inclined to do. One way or another, Clarence was going to be in the background of this case, and probably was going to call a lot of the shots.
    He finally leaned back into his chair, ran a hand through his unruly, thinning hair, and asked, “What can I do for you, Major? Miss Mazorski?”
    I said, “We thought it might make sense to come over here and get acquainted. Maybe create some joint ground rules.”
    “I’m afraid I’m confused. This is a military case. It has nothing to do with this office.”
    I just love getting jerked around. “Let’s not go there. Your Agency headed up the task force that arrested my client. You’ve got vaults filled with information I need. Order your people to share what the law says I’m entitled to see, or I’ll walk out of this building and convene a press conference.”
    A nasty half-smile popped onto his face. “Every defense lawyer makes that threat. We’ve weathered it before, and we’ll weather it again. And frankly, ever since the World Trade Center, the courts are much more sympathetic to us.”
    I half smiled back. We were making progress. Pretty soon, we’d half smile each other to death.
    “How many of those lawyers attended press conferences wearing Army green? How many had Top Secret clearances? How many knew exactly how to embarrass this agency to get what they want?”
    He stood up and walked around his desk to position himself in front of me. He got less than a foot away and looked down at my face. It’s the oldest intimidation stunt in the book. You either stare at his groin like a pervert or up at his face like a supplicant.
    I opted for the supplicant option, in case you’re interested.
    “Listen, Drummond, your client betrayed this country in ways too horrible to contemplate. Sure, you’re only doing your job, and believe it or not, I admire that. But when you learn everything your client did, you’ll want to strangle him. He’s responsible for more havoc than you can imagine. We’re still trying to assess the damage, but it’s probable we’ll add murder to the crime of treason.”
    In an outraged tone, Katrina said, “Murder? That’s bullshit.”
    He pinched his nostrils and stared over at her. She was shrewdly trying to provoke more information from him. Smart girl . . . nice move . . . very commendable.
    Unfortunately, Clarence didn’t get to this level by being stupid. He went across the room and stared out his window. “William Morrison not only gave the Russians the names of agents and turncoats, he also exposed the inner workings of our foreign policy deliberations and helped shape our responses to Russian acts that would turn your stomach. In the history of espionage, there’s never been one like him.”
    When neither of us responded, he continued, “Your client’s a master of duplicity. He worked right under our noses for over a decade and fooled everybody. For three years Mary Morrison headed up the task force responsible for finding the traitor. He slept beside her every night, so forgive me if we seem reluctant to share sensitive information. There’ll be no orchestrated effort to stonewall you—hell, I’ve already assembled twenty attorneys to cull through the evidence, but don’t you get on your high horse, Drummond. It won’t sell.”
    I tried to listen to his every word but was having some difficulty coming to terms with that one nasty zinger he’d let slip. Mary Morrison had been in charge of the molehunting taskforce—she’d been sleeping with the man they were now convinced was her prey. If Morrison was in fact a traitor, she’d been cuckolded in ways that almost defy the imagination.
    I stood up and Katrina followed my lead. “Mr. O’Neil, thank you for your time, and I look forward to getting your team’s products at the earliest possible date.”
    A self-satisfied smile erupted on his face and remained