“Then Foreman is Teddy,” Lance said. “Get a sketch artist up here and put him with the doorman and the super. Maybe well at least get a better sketch.”

“You know,” the agent said. “When we were canvassing realtors last week I interviewed the woman whose office is the rental agent for this building, and she denied having rented anything in any building to a single man during the past couple of months.” He handed Lance a rental agreement. “We found this in the desk drawer, wiped clean, of course. Her signature is on it. The woman lied to me.”

“Find out why,” Lance said. “Maybe she’s an old acquaintance of Teddy; maybe she knows something else that could help. Pick her up, scare the shit out of her and milk her dry. Print her and do a background check, too. See if her path has crossed Teddy’s at some time in the past.”

The man left.

“He’s not going to be at Kennedy,” Holly said.

“Maybe not,” Lance replied.

“Certainly not,” Holly said. “Teddy’s not going to tell a doorman where he’s going, then go there.”

“We checked the car service; it dropped Teddy at Kennedy fifteen minutes ago.”

“Then he’s not there anymore. My guess is, he’s on the way to LaGuardia-if he’s running-and he’s on the way back into the city, if he’s not.”

Lance called Kerry. “He may be headed to LaGuardia or back into the city,” he said. “Turn out as many people as you can at the other airport; I’ll deal with the rest.” He closed his phone and shouted, “Everybody listen up!”

Everybody stopped talking and moving around the apartment.

“Teddy may be headed back into the city,” Lance said. “I want you to divide into three groups and cover the Triborough Bridge, the Fifty-ninth Street Bridge and the Midtown Tunnel. Call the bridge and tunnel authority and have them squeeze traffic down to as many lanes as you can manage. Check the occupants of every cab that goes through.”

“Lance,” Holly said. “I know it’s a stretch, but shouldn’t we check the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges, too?”

“Oh, all right,” Lance said, and gave the instructions.

TEDDY’S CAB WAS on the Van Wyck Expressway now. “Tell you what,” he said to the driver. “Let’s go to Brooklyn on the way. I’ve never been over the Brooklyn Bridge.”

“Whatever you say, Mister,” the driver said. “It’s your meter. I’ll take you over the Verrazano Bridge, if you feel the urge to visit Staten Island.”

“Why not?” Teddy said. “We’ll take the ferry back. It’ll be fun.”

“Tourists,” the driver chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

BACK AT THE BARN, Lance, Holly and Kerry took the phone reports from the teams on the bridges and tunnel.

“Zip,” Kerry said. “We didn’t move fast enough.”

“Yes, we did,” Lance said.

“Maybe he did a costume change, and he’s still at Kennedy or LaGuardia, waiting for a plane.”

“Every gate agent was alerted,” Lance said. “Anyway, we have a confirmation from the cab starter at Kennedy; Teddy definitely got into a cab. He must have left his car and gone directly to the arrivals area.”

“Then where the hell is he?” Holly asked plaintively.

“I think you were right, Holly,” Lance said. “I think he’s back in the city. He’s not done yet; he’s going to kill somebody else.”

“But where is he?”

“He’s got another place, a workshop; has to have. There was no sign that he’d done any work in the Park Avenue apartment. He didn’t move any equipment out when he left.”

“Then that workshop has got to be near the apartment,” Holly said. “You can’t have a workshop on Park, Madison or Fifth Avenues; that kind of industrial space just isn’t available.”

“Lexington Avenue would be the nearest place,” Kerry said. “There’s all sorts of shops there, and semi-industrial places like dry cleaners and shoe repair shops. He could rent a room on Lex.”

“All right,” Lance said, “we’ll canvas every building on Lexington from, say, Seventy-second to Fifty-seventh Streets, and if we don’t come up with anything there, we’ll start on Third Avenue, but we’re going to need manpower.” He picked up the phone. “Get me Lieutenant Dino Bacchetti at the One-Nine,” he said. “That part of town is on Dino’s patch; let’s let him earn his consulting fee. He’s going to have to work without warrants, so tell him to tell his men to tread lightly and get permission from supers.”

TEDDY ARRIVED back at his Lexington Avenue workshop at midnight. He had bought the cab driver dinner on Staten Island, paid a two-hundred-dollar cab fare and tipped the driver a hundred, making his day.

He had just gotten his luggage up the stairs when his cell phone rang.

“Yes?”

“It’s Irene.”

“Hi, there. You okay?”

“Well, you scared the shit out of me this morning.”

“What did I do this morning?”

“When I got to work, Hugh English was poring over a memo from Payroll about the absence of time sheets for one Charles Lockwood. Sound familiar?”

“Uh-oh.”

“Don’t worry, I squared it. I told Payroll that Lockwood was out of town on assignment for another month or six weeks and couldn’t be reached.”

“What did you tell English?”

“That Lockwood works in Intelligence, and Payroll had sent the memo in error. You need to do some more work on Lockwood’s background; there was no transcript from Groton. I also told Hugh I’m retiring, and he recommended St. Barts. So did Lance Cabot, for that matter.”

“So nobody will think it odd when you start looking there.”

“Nope, I’ve put them on notice. Hugh says maybe he’ll retire there, too, and be my neighbor.”

Teddy laughed. “Fat chance.”

“Right. He won’t go until they shoot him.”

“I see you’re having Lockwood’s pay sent to a Cayman bank. Is that going to give them a trail to follow?”

“Nah, it’s being sent from there to a bank in Singapore. They can look for me in Singapore, if they like.”

“How long before you can meet me in St. Barts?”

“I’ll probably get there first,” Teddy said.

“You’re winding it up?”

“Just one more little job to do.”

“Ben Saud?”

“It’s better if I don’t tell you who or when. Or how I’m going to get to St. Barts.”

“Fine by me. Will you let me know when you’re there?”

“I’ll call you on this phone and say that I’m somewhere in the Middle East.”

“Okay.”

“If I’m blown and shouldn’t go to St. Barts, say, ”I hear Iraq is nice this time of year.“”

“Got it. Teddy, is this really going to work? Are we really going to make it?”

“Yes, it is, and yes, we are. All I need is a few more days, and I’ll be lying on that beach. Shortly after that, I’ll be lying on it with you.”

“I’m looking forward to that. I figure I’ll be able to get out of Langley in a couple of weeks. Tom Bergin is replacing me, and he already knows eighty percent of what he’ll need to know before I go. I’ll put in my papers in the morning, and I’ll put my townhouse on the market, too. There’s always a line of people waiting to buy in my development, so I’ll be out of there pretty quick. I’m going to try to sell it furnished, so all I’ll want to send south is a few books and pictures. I’m going to give my clothes to Goodwill and start over.”

“They were looking for me in my building today,” he said. “I’m out of the apartment for good, now.”

“How did they find the building?”

“I think they canvassed every building in the neighborhood. The doorman and super didn’t tell them anything, but I’m operating on the premise that the apartment is burnt.”

“Where are you now? Oh, sorry, I don’t want to know, do I?”

“No, but I’m safe enough. I’ll call you in a few days, if I can.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. Bye-bye.” He hung up, and it surprised him to realize that he really did miss her.