He seemed to want to talk, which was fine with me, and he drew our attention to a wall where about two dozen bronze plaques were mounted, each bearing a name and a date.

He said, “These are some of the men I served with and their dates of death. The earlier dates are those who died in Vietnam, the later ones died in one war or another since then, and some died natural deaths.” He moved closer to the plaques and said, “I built this place partly as a memorial to them, partly as a reminder of our beginnings at the Custer Hill Officers Club, and partly as a place to gather on Veterans Day and Memorial Day for those of us still around.”

After a few seconds of silence, Kate said, “That’s very nice.”

Bain Madox continued to stare at the names, then turned to us. “Also, when I built this place, it was the height of the Cold War, and you might remember that the news media was trying to whip the country into a state of hysteria about Reagan leading us to nuclear Armageddon.”

I said, “Yeah, I remember that. They had me going for a while. I was buying canned chili and beer by the case.”

Madox smiled politely and continued, “Well, I never thought we were going to have a nuclear exchange-not with Mutually Assured Destruction-but the idiots in the media and Hollywood had us all dead and buried.” He added, “Basically, they’re a bunch of old ladies.”

“That’s an insult to old ladies.”

He went on, “Anyway, I suppose that was on my mind when I decided to build this place. I know it was on my wife’s mind.”

“You’re married?”

“Not anymore.”

“Is she a Democrat or something?”

“She’s a card-carrying consumer.”

“So,” I asked, “you have a fallout shelter here?”

“I do. A totally useless expense, but that’s what she wanted.”

“Well,” I said, “fallout is tricky stuff.”

“Fallout is overrated.”

I’d never heard radioactive fallout described in quite that way, and for a moment I thought I was speaking to Dr. Strangelove.

Madox glanced at a Black Forest cuckoo clock on the wall and said to us, “I’d show you around, but I’m sure you have other stops to make.”

I reminded him, “We’ll be back tomorrow at first light.”

He nodded and moved toward the door.

I said, “Great painting of the Little Bighorn.”

“Thank you. It’s very old, artist unknown, and I don’t think it’s an accurate representation of the final moments of that battle.”

“Who would know? They all died.”

“The Indians didn’t all die.”

I wanted to tell him my joke, but I could feel Kate’s eyes on me. “Well, they were foolhardy, but brave.”

“More foolhardy than brave, I’m afraid.” He added, “I was in the Seventh Cavalry. Custer’s regiment.”

“You don’t look that old, or-” I nodded toward the painting.

“In Vietnam, Mr. Corey. The regiment still exists.”

“Oh… right.”

He stood by the door, and there was a moment of almost awkward silence. This is where I usually spring something on the suspect, leaving him or her to a bad night’s sleep. But in truth, I had no more arrows in my quiver, to use an apt metaphor, and I was really unsure if Bain Madox had anything to do with Harry’s disappearance, so I said to him, “Thank you for your time and help.”

“I’ll send my men out immediately,” he replied. “Meanwhile, if the air search comes up with anything, have the state police call that security guard number, and I’ll get some people on the ground where the helicopters have lit up the area. If we’re lucky, we may find this man tonight.”

“I think some prayers might help, too.”

Madox commented, “As long as it’s above freezing, a person can survive in the woods for weeks if he’s not badly hurt.”

He opened the door, and we all went out onto the veranda. I noticed that the Enterprise rental car that had been there was gone.

I said to him, “I want to thank you for your service to our country.”

He nodded.

Kate said, “Yes, thank you.”

Madox replied, “And you’re both serving in a different way, in a different war. I thank you for that. This may be the toughest fight we’ve ever had. Stay with it. We will prevail.”

“We will,” Kate said.

“We will,” Mr. Madox agreed, and added, “I hope I live long enough to see a permanent condition Green.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

We got into our Taurus and followed the black Jeep downhill toward the gate.

We didn’t speak while we were inside the property in case there were directional listening devices, but we did turn on our cell phones and beepers, which indicated that Kate had two messages, and I had none.

The dashboard clock said it was 4:58 P.M., so Tom Walsh should still be in his office defending Western Civilization for another two minutes.

At the guardhouse, the Jeep pulled to the side, and the gate slid open. As we exited the property, I could see two guards through a window of the house, and one of them was videotaping us. I leaned toward Kate’s window and saluted with my middle finger.

McCuen Pond Road lay in shadow, and I turned on my headlights so I could spot the bears sooner. I asked Kate, “Well, what are your thoughts?”

She stayed silent awhile, then replied, “He’s charming in a spooky sort of way.”

One of the more interesting things in life is hearing a woman’s thoughts on a man you’ve both met. Men that I find ugly, she finds good-looking; men I find slimy, she finds sociable; and so forth. In this case, however, I sort of agreed with Kate.

She said, “I think he liked you.” She added, “Don’t take this wrong, but he sort of reminded me of you.”

“How’s that, darling?”

“Well, the self-confidence and the… for want of a better expression, the male macho bullshit.”

“Good expression. More important, does he know more about Harry than he’s telling us?”

“I don’t know… His whole demeanor seemed almost nonchalant.”

I replied, “The sign of a sociopath and narcissist.”

“Yes, but sometimes the sign of a person who has nothing to hide.”

“He has something to hide, even if it’s only oil-price rigging. That’s why the Justice Department is interested in him.”

“True, but-”

“And yet,” I said, “he invites us in without his lawyer present.”

“What’s your point?”

“He wants to know what we know, and he can learn that by the questions we ask him.”

“That’s one way to look at it.”

“And how about that story of the Custer Hill Club?”

She nodded. “What a story. It’s really amazing if you think about it… I mean, these young officers, staying in touch, some of them getting rich and powerful… and Bain Madox building that lodge.”

“Yeah. What’s more amazing is that he actually admitted to us that this group is or was some sort of secret society that somehow influenced events on the world stage during the Cold War. Including engaging in illegal activities.”

She thought a moment, then replied, “He wants to sound important and powerful… guys do that… but if any of that is true, then it puts a whole different light on the Custer Hill Club.” She pointed out, “He raised some suspicions he didn’t need to raise.”

“He may have thought we already knew about the history of the club.”

“Or,” Kate said, “it’s past history and he’s proud of it, like he’s proud of his Vietnam service. I don’t know… but then he said he was a little involved with the war on terrorism.”

“Right. That’s like being a little pregnant.” I said, “As I suspected, there’s more to this group than meets the eye. There’s a political element here, and in today’s world, Mr. Madox’s oil mixes well with politics.”

“It always did.”

I changed the subject back to our immediate concern. “So, did Madox have anything to do with Harry’s disappearance?”

She stayed quiet, then said, “The one thing that bothered me was his stalling… like he was waiting for Harry to… turn up.”