That night, Gillooly says, he called Harding. He told her he would have to come to Detroit and that they would have to seem as frightened as everyone else. He instructed her that she should say she was scared and had asked him to come.
Gillooly arrived in Detroit around 4 p.m. on Saturday, Jan. 8, just before the women's free-skating final. Smith and Stant were safely back in Phoenix; Kerrigan had withdrawn from the competition, which Harding would win; and the composite sketches the police had released scarcely resembled Stant. Witnesses could not even decide if the assailant was black or white. According to his statement, Gillooly talked to Harding before she left for the arena and confided that it looked like everything was working out.
And it may have worked out, were it not for that tape recording made surreptitiously by Eckardt on Dec. 28. For Eckardt that tape was proof, real proof, that he wasn't a blow hard. Something he had planned had actually come to pass. World history had been changed. And he didn't seem to care who knew it.
On Friday, Jan. 7, a woman who would not identify herself called Detroit deputy police chief Benny Napoleon, who had appeared several times on television to discuss the Kerrigan assault. She told him about a tape she had listened to in which four men were planning the crime. She provided Napoleon with names. The caller, it turned out, was a friend of Eckardt's father's, a woman named Patti Cook, who says that she blew the whistle on the conspirators because she was appalled at what they had done to Kerrigan.
On Sunday, at about 2:30 p.m., a Detroit police detective, Dennis Richardson, approached Gillooly. They had spoken briefly the night before. During the conversation Richardson was called away several times to make telephone calls. At one point he returned with two men whom he introduced as FBI agents. The conversation turned to security for Harding, and Gillooly told them about Shawn Eckardt and his World Bodyguard Services. Then one of the agents asked, "Who's Derrick?"
Gillooly's heart leaped into his throat. He felt his temples flush hot. "Derrick who?"
"You know. Derrick," said the FBI agent.
Gillooly said if they could come up with a last name, he might be able to help them. He signed a statement for them and left.
That night, Gillooly says, he told Harding about the interview. He told her they had mentioned Derrick. Harding, Gillooly says, asked if they knew something, and Gillooly told her they definitely knew something. He just didn't know how much.
Later that night Gillooly called Eckardt and told him about the FBI interview and about how Derrick's name had been dropped. He asked Eckardt to get in touch with Derrick.