On that subject, I wondered if he would opt for a macho move, like an armed confrontation. Or, would he take the less confrontational approach, like a Mickey Finn in our drinks, followed by a short trip through the wood chipper?

If Madox was going to go military on us, then I was playing the odds that not all of his security guards were trusted killers, so maybe we’d have to deal with only Madox, Carl, and two or three other guys.

A more positive but probably unrealistic thought was that there wasn’t going to be a poisoning or shoot-out at the Custer Hill Club, and that Bain Madox, when confronted with our evidence and placed under arrest, would realize that the game was up and admit to murdering Federal Agent Harry Muller, then lead us to the ELF transmitter. Case closed.

I glanced at Kate, who looked calm and composed. We made eye contact, and I smiled and winked at her.

I also got a look at Carl’s face. Usually, you can tell by the face and body language if a guy knows that something unpleasant is about to happen. Carl didn’t seem tense, but neither was he relaxed.

Carl stopped in front of a set of double doors, one of which had a brass plate that said BAR ROOM. He knocked, opened one door, and said to us, “After you.”

“No,” I said, “after you.”

He hesitated, then entered and motioned to the left, where Mr. Bain Madox stood behind a mahogany bar, smoking and listening on the phone, which I noticed was a landline, not a cell.

Across the dimly lit room was a burning fireplace, to the right of which was a set of drawn drapes that may have covered a window, or a set of double doors leading outside.

I heard Madox say, “All right. I have company. Call me later.” He hung up, smiled, and said, “Welcome. Come in.”

Kate and I gave the place a quick look, then took different paths around the furniture to the bar. I heard the door close behind us.

Madox put out his cigarette. “I wasn’t sure you’d gotten Carl’s message at The Point, and I hoped you hadn’t forgotten.”

Kate and I reached the bar, and I said, “We’ve been looking forward to the evening.”

Kate added, “Thank you for inviting us.”

We all shook hands, and Madox asked, “What can I get you?”

I was glad he didn’t say, “Name your poison,” and I inquired, “What are you drinking?”

He indicated a bottle on the bar and replied, “My private-label single malt, which you enjoyed yesterday.”

“Good. I’ll take it straight up.” In case you drugged the soda water or ice cubes.

Kate said, “Make it two.”

Madox poured two scotches into crystal glasses, then refreshed his own drink from the same bottle, which may have been his polite way of showing us that the scotch wasn’t going to kill us.

True to his word, Madox was dressed casually in the same outfit he’d worn this afternoon-blue blazer, white golf shirt, and jeans. So Kate and I would feel comfortable when we arrested him.

He raised his glass and said, “Not a happy occasion, but to happier times.”

We clinked glasses and drank. He swallowed. I swallowed. Kate swallowed.

I could see the darkened room in the bar mirror, and there was another set of open doors at the far end of the room that led into what appeared to be a card room or game room.

Also, behind the bar, to the left of the liquor shelves, was a small door that probably led to a storage area or wine cellar. In fact, there were too many doors in this place, plus drapes drawn across what could be doors leading outside. And I don’t like standing at the bar with my back to a room, with a guy behind the bar who could suddenly drop out of sight. So I suggested, “Why don’t we sit by the fire?”

Madox said, “Good idea.” He came around the bar as Kate and I walked to a grouping of four leather club chairs near the fireplace.

Before he could seat us, Kate and I took the chairs facing each other, leaving Madox to take one of the chairs facing the fireplace, with his back to the closed double doors. From where I sat, I could see the open doors to the card room, and Kate could see the bar where the small side door was.

Having claimed my seat, I stood and went to the drapes to the right of the fireplace and said, “Do you mind?” as I pulled them open. There was indeed a set of French doors there, which led to a dark terrace.

I came back to my chair, sat, and noted, “That’s a nice view.”

Madox did not comment.

Basically, all bases were covered, and I was sure that Bain Madox-ex-infantry officer-appreciated our concern about fields of fire.

Madox asked us, “Would you like to take your jackets off?”

Kate replied, “No, thanks. I’m still a little cold.”

I didn’t answer, and I noticed he wasn’t taking off his blazer, probably for the same reason we weren’t taking off our jackets. I didn’t see a bulge, but I knew he was packing something, somewhere.

I surveyed the room. It was more in the style of a gentlemen’s club rather than an Adirondack lodge. There was an expensive-looking Persian carpet on the floor, and lots of mahogany, green leather, and polished brass. There was not a dead animal in sight, and I hoped it stayed that way.

Madox said, “This room is an exact replica of the one in my New York apartment, which in turn I copied from a London club.”

I inquired, “Isn’t that a little confusing after you’ve had a few?”

He smiled politely, then said, “So, let’s get rid of some business.” He turned to me. “I have the duty roster of my security staff who were here over the weekend, and I’ll see that you have it before you leave.”

“Good. And your house staff?”

“I have a complete list of the staff who were working on the weekend.”

“And the security log and the security tapes?”

He nodded. “All copied for you.”

“Terrific.” And this left the sticky question of his rich-and-famous weekend guests. “How about the list of your houseguests?”

“I need to think about that.”

“What’s to think about?”

“Well, obviously, the names of these people are not everyone’s business.” He added, “Which I guess was why the government sent Mr. Muller here to get these names by… devious means. And now you want me to give you these names, voluntarily.”

I reminded him, “Harry Muller is dead, and this is now an investigation into his death.” I added, “You said this afternoon that you’d have those names for us.”

“I’m very aware of that, and I’ve called my attorney, who will get back to me tonight. If he tells me to turn over those names, I will give them to you tonight.”

Kate said, “If he doesn’t, we could subpoena that information.”

Madox replied, “That may be the best way for me to give you those names.” He explained, “That would take me off the hook with my guests.”

Basically, this was all bullshit to make us think he had some serious issues to consider. Meanwhile, all he was really thinking about was his ELF signal to Sandland, and how best to get Corey and Mayfield into the wood chipper.

He informed us, “My attorney tells me that the Federal government has no jurisdiction in a state homicide case.”

I let Kate handle that one, and she said, “Any murder charges that come out of this investigation will be brought by New York State. In the meantime, we’re investigating the disappearance of a Federal agent, and his possible kidnapping, which is a Federal crime, as well as a possible criminal assault on the deceased agent.” She asked Madox, “Would you like me to speak to your attorney?”

“No. I’m sure the United States government can find a Federal law to fit any crime these days, including jaywalking.”

Special Agent Mayfield replied, “I think this is a bit more serious than that.”

Madox let that slide, so I changed the subject to put everyone at ease. “Good scotch.”

“Thank you. Remind me to give you a bottle before you leave.” He said to Kate, “Not many women are single malt drinkers.”