Free Washington Masquerade by Warren Adler

assassination on you-know-who’s orders. And that includes those who are part of his government.”
    â€œAnd you, Izzy? What do you believe?”
    â€œI do not worship false idols. There is only one truth here. To find it is our mission.” His biblical tone sounded oddly appropriate in this house of worship. She offered an approving glance, and Izzy nodded his understanding.
    The detectives kept in the background as the assemblage followed the coffin outside to the funeral procession with the widow and her two daughters, the younger one obviously devastated, and literally kept upright by her mother and older sister.
    The detectives were alert to any signs that might be helpful, but Fiona sensed that it was an exercise in futility. Izzy pointed out a female mourner whose grief was particularly effusive.
    â€œCharlotte,” Izzy whispered, “the deposed assistant.”
    Fiona nodded. Recognizing her raised the nagging question; why had Burns dismissed her? Was the excuse noted by his wife valid? Seeing her so heavily affected triggered further interest, and they both agreed that she was an essential, more in-depth interview.
    They learned only the obvious from attending the funeral. Burns was an important media figure, with a big following in Washington and elsewhere, his politics notwithstanding. In death, the white flag flew proudly. Fiona knew the drill and swallowed what could only be called the lump of pride in American democracy, despite its messy system.
    ***
    There was no avoiding being swept up in an unstoppable wave of political and media posturing. The rhetoric was rising, and Senators and Congressmen, especially of the out-of-power party, were demanding answers, threatening investigations, and savagely abusing the Administration for—the favorite charge of politicians—stonewalling. Conspiracy theories were accelerating, sparked by the press and television’s talking heads that were retailing the idea that Burns had been murdered for political reasons.
    The assertions, of course, were exaggerated and some were illogical and hysterical, but the story made good copy. And there were bloggers orchestrating their furious cacophony of for and against. Worse, its logic had some merit. The best way to get rid of a critic for all time is to kill him. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire was the operative motivation. In Fiona’s eyes, it was a form of hysterics.
    The suggestion of murder was abetted by Mrs. Burns who struck out savagely in the media, appearing on television and in the newspapers, to accuse the administration, particularly the President with being the architect of her husband’s death. With her good looks and grooming, her low-key demeanor and lethal but articulate accusations, she was, despite the absence of witnesses, remarkably convincing.
    The problem for the homicide detectives was that there were no clues and no witnesses and absolutely no evidence to suggest murder, which did not stop the heated rhetoric that ran through Washington like a river of flaming oil. Pressed by the Mayor, who in turn politicians pressed, Hodges had no choice but to appear at a press conference. For the first time, in Fiona’s memory, he was reluctant.
    â€œWhat can I tell them?” he asked.
    â€œTell them we’re covering every base,” Fiona said.
    Hodges looked at her as if she had just told a bad joke.
    â€œWhat they want is red meat. I’m told that this is one press conference in which there will be standing room only.”
    â€œTell them the truth,” Izzy said.
    The Chief exchanged glances with Fiona.
    â€œThe truth is a nonstory. They’ll think I’m hiding something.”
    â€œThat’s their problem, Chief,” Fiona said, trying to calm her boss’s fears. She had never seen him this tense and uncertain.
    Hodges looked at his watch, then out the window where they were setting up cameras. He had chosen to make the