Two days later back at T14 HQ things had calmed down a fraction. Winters was being guarded more closely than the crown jewels as we awaited the arrival of the US President.
There was nothing for me to remotely listen to, no maps to scan. I could have taken the afternoon off but Barbara was busy and I didn't see the point in sitting at home on my own.
I still don't know why I decided to go and visit our former deputy director. Maybe subconsciously I knew some of what he was about to confess - the bit that related to me and my sabotage at least - and maybe the whole thing was somehow inevitable.
I walked down the hospital corridor and paused outside the door. It certainly wasn't concern for his health that had brought me here. Maybe it was the nagging feeling that the CIA director hadn't seemed to know anything about my implant or me being interfered with. Maybe it was just that I hated Peterson anyway and had come to watch him die.
I couldn't tell from his reactions whether he was pleased or scared to see me; I was too distracted by the awfulness of his physical condition. Despite the plush private room and expensive looking, shiny equipment, he looked if anything even worse than when the others had found him in that hotel.
"To what do I owe this pleasure," he said. His voice was too thin and quiet for me to detect any sarcasm.
"I just wondered if you'd like to unburden yourself of anything," I said. Peterson had no idea about my upgrades, so he couldn't know that I currently had my microphone activated and everything he said would be recorded, no matter how quietly he said it.
He chuckled quietly to himself.
"I'll tell you one thing. My wife tried to kill me."
This wasn't at all what I was expecting.
I was about to say 'Why?' but the multitude of reasons went without saying. I doubt many people who knew him wouldn't seriously want to kill him.
"Did she?" I opted for.
"That's what the ten thousand was. She took it from our joint account to pay that idiot to try to kill me."
I have to admit I was stunned.
"So that's why the call was made from her phone?"
"I should be disappointed that you all thought I was that stupid, but somehow I'm not."
"So what happened? Did he try to kill you?"
"Yes, the cheek of it. I'd just got home from work so I still had my gun on me. The dozy sod came at me with a knife. He's a big bastard but not even as brave as he is clever. He soon confessed everything. He was so stupid he still had the money on him. It was my money so I took it back."
"So why did Margery want you dead?"
He let out a throaty cough and then continued.
"What I told White was basically true but a little out of sequence. I had a very brief affair with Libby but I didn't realise she was CIA until later. I don't know why but she told Margery, I suppose she thought that would get rid of me."
I was taken aback at his coldness.
"So when you stabbed that woman to death, you thought she was a regular member of the public?"
"Don't look at me like that," he croaked, "we've all got blood on our hands."
"We did think for a while that you might have been working with the CIA. That's something, at least."
"I've been working for them for years and the look on your face right now makes it all worth while," he grinned in his especially unpleasant fashion.
Could this possibly be true? My mind was spinning and I was glad I'd thought to record it all.
"Did you corrupt my implant?" I asked, keeping the anger from my voice with concerted effort.
"Of course it was me, and I put you on the plane to Washington. But I didn't have anything to do with you fucking that old whore, that was your own freewill."
I clenched my fists tightly - not because I believed him about it being my choice, but because he was clearly enjoying my distress.
"Is there anything else useful you have to tell me?"
"No, that's your lot. Goodnight folks," he chortled.
"Indeed it is," I said, placing my hand over his mouth. In his emaciated state it took less than a minute to kill him. He didn't even struggle. It's annoying but I think I did what he wanted, the crafty bastard.
I called for a nurse just as the machines started bleeping.
I went outside, got into my car and phoned A1 to fill him in.
"And you recorded everything?" he asked.
"Yes, I've just finished emailing you the sound file."
"Good. There's no need for anyone to know exactly how he died, not even any of our colleagues, understood?"
"Yes, sir, understood."
"Well, this gives me even more to question Winters about."
"Unless... maybe he was just bullshitting me. About working for them. Judging from the state of him I don't think he'd have lasted much longer anyway - maybe he just wanted to throw a spanner in the works out of... I don't know, resentment of some sort?"
A1 sighed.
"I wouldn't put anything past him. Keep that aspect to yourself for now, play nobody the recording. You and I will search his office and home and go through all his paperwork - that's routine after an agents death in any case."
When the call ended I felt strangely unelated. I didn't feel that I'd got revenge on the person who almost destroyed my marriage and could well have got me killed. I didn't really feel anything.
I shrugged and drove back to the office.