“That’s the best reference I could have,” Rifkin said, “since it’s his life he’s putting in my hands.”
“Come outside and let’s enjoy the California evening,” Mike said, leading the way to a walled patio off the living room.
“I smell orange blossoms,” Rifkin said.
“Were you based in Florida for a time?”
“Oh, yes, Miami, working on counterfeiting cases. Funny how scents can be so evocative of times and places.”
“I hope you don’t mind, I’ve ordered onion soup and steaks for us. I’m told you like yours rare.”
“You’ve done your homework,” Rifkin replied. “That’s fine with me.”
The two men chatted idly for a few minutes, then Mike got down to business. “I hope my people have kept you sufficiently briefed on our end of this.”
“They’ve done a very good job of that,” Rifkin said.
“I’m afraid your people haven’t done all that good a job of briefing mine.”
“You’ll have to forgive us, Mike, we’re unaccustomed to sharing with outsiders, even those from other federal agencies. The more people who know our methods, the more leaks there could be.”
“I assume you’ve run your own checks on our people.”
“On your people and on every person who will be employed by this hotel or who will be a guest while the two presidents are here. By the way, I’m impressed with the backgrounds of your people, Mike.”
“But not sufficiently to be open with them.”
“The way I see it is you and I are running parallel but separate operations here. Your concern is for the safety of The Arrington’s guests and property, and ours is for the safety of the president of the United States and his guest, the president of Mexico. Where those operations overlap, we’ll be as helpful as we can, but it’s part of our standard operating procedure to see that our duties overlap with others’ as little as possible. It’s true of local police departments when the president travels, and it’s true of your people in this particular situation.”
“I understand that, believe me, and I’ll do my best to respect that view, as long as my people can do their jobs efficiently.”
“Of course. Two people have been hired in the past couple of days that I’d like to ask you about. One of them belongs to you.”
“Let me guess: Rick Indrisie.”
“Good guess. Can you guess why I’m concerned about him?” Jeff Rifkin asked.
“Because he’s to be right at the nerve center of our s
urveillance security, and because he’s so young.”
“Correct on both counts,” Rifkin conceded.
“You’ll have to take our word for it that Rick is qualified for his job,” Mike said. “We screen our people just as carefully as you do yours, and he has met or exceeded every qualification we’ve assigned to that task. As for his youth, I think that someone who has risen through a government bureaucracy sometimes has difficulty perceiving how a privately owned company can bring someone up through the ranks so quickly.”
“I take your point,” Rifkin said.
“From our point of view, Rick’s education and work experience make him a seasoned professional at twenty-eight, while in your operation, someone of that age might be thought of as green.”
“There’s truth in what you say, Mike. I myself managed to move up more quickly than is common in the Service.”
“I’m sure you’ve seen our file on Rick.”
“I have.”
“Then you’ll have to take our word that he’s the right man for the job—at least until your investigation of him turns up something to contradict that.”
“Fair enough,” Rifkin said.