"Calhoun's suicide is that event?"

"No question about it. Recall Agent Kinney telling us that Jason's behavior became odd about six months ago. That coincides with his father's suicide, right?"

I stood a moment and thought about all this. It sounded like those Greek tragedies we were all forced to read and endure in college, where the hero always has some fatal flaw, like hubris or whatever, a brooding germ that lurks in remission until it eventually thaws and, like the Pac-Man, consumes all around it.

Jason's crimes were in the here and now, but the seeds were planted more than three decades before in a poisonous marriage, in a brutally claustrophobic household, and then richly fertilized by the hatred between two monumentally spiteful men.

I said, "Incidentally, you did a great job back there."

"As did you. Are you okay?"

"No, I feel awful."

She took my hand. "You should. You got carried away back there. That poor woman. You were really a bullying-"

"What the-"

"I mean, I hate to nitpick…" She laughed. "I'm joking. You were perfect. I couldn't have done it without you. I'll see if I can get you a merit badge."

I was just raising my eyebrow when a new thought struck me. "Holy shit!"

"What?"

I grabbed her arm and said, "Call your boss-now."

"Who do you think I was just talking to?"

"No-call Townsend."

"Why?"

"Because, probably, he's next."

She stared at me, and it took a moment before she put it together, and another moment before it registered. "Oh my God! You're right. He probably carried the news to the White House and the Attorney General."

"Right." While she called and informed Townsend that he was probably next on Jason's happy hit list, I wandered back to the car and Ted.

Ted saw me approach and said, "Get what you needed?"

It was none of Ted's business, so I diverted his attention to one of the statues and asked, "What great southern warrior is that?"

"Martin Luther King."

I must've looked a little surprised by that revelation.

He laughed. "Hey, times change, even down here."

"Right. Hey, Ted, you still single?"

"Yup."

"Good town for the ladies?"

Whereupon Ted launched into a lengthy dissertation about the quality of young women in Richmond, and apparently it was primo; he was really getting into it. I checked my watch a few times. Jennie was taking her sweet time with Townsend. The next act was about to unfold in Washington, and where I needed to be was not here but there. I mean, all Jennie had to say was, "Yo, boss, they're gunning for your ass. So, you know… think about investing in a Kevlar suit, rounding up a platoon of Army Rangers, and, incidentally, do not set foot outside your office for a week."

But eventually she finished and joined us. She said to me, "Sorry that took so long. I told the Director and George. We decided to get an authorization for surveillance and wiretaps on Mrs. Barnes. When she sobers up, I doubt shell remain cooperative."

"Have no doubts."

She nodded. "There's more. They think we can do something with this. Something proactive."

I was afraid of this. "Bad idea."

"I know, I know. I advised against it also."

"No matter how good the protection, Jason and his pals could always get lucky."

She shrugged. "Yes, and that would be a shame. He's the best Director we've had in years."

Ted looked confused and asked, "What in the hell y'all talkin' about?"

In reply, Jennie looked at her watch and stressed, "Ted, you have exactly seven minutes to have us back at the chopper or I will ship your ass to Alaska."

"Sheeit," replied Ted, predictably

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

We set down in the parking lot of Ferguson Home Security Electronics at 4:45 a.m. The building was lit up like Macy's, no doubt causing the neighbors to wonder if they were missing out on an early-bird fire sale. At least-this being Washington-I'm sure the one thought that never crossed anybody's mind was whether some secretive government agency was operating this building as a facade. How did I get involved with these people?

Phyllis awaited us in the parking lot. She handed a small paper bag to Jennie, a small paper bag to me, and said, "Toothbrushes, toothpastes, and some baby wipes."

I said, "Thanks. This is very-"

"You'll be billed for it later," she informed me.

"I thought we would."

Her nose wrinkled and her eyes narrowed. "Drummond, have you been drinking?"

Jennie dutifully came to my aid. "One… maybe two. Or three or four. All in the line of duty."

There was silence for a moment.

Eventually Phyllis said, "Whatever. In any regard, you two did a good job down in Richmond. We're quite pleased."

I wasn't sure who was included in "we," but I'd bet George Meany was not, whereas Mark Townsend, whose gilded tush we might have saved, probably was.

I mentioned to Phyllis, "Jennie made the breakthrough. You should be sure to mention that to her Director. She cracked Mrs. Barnes like a walnut… peanut… whatever."

Jennie immediately commented, "Sean's role was harder. He did the bad cop. He gave an amazing performance."

And back and forth awhile. We were both laying it on a bit thick. But finally Phyllis looked at me and commented, "I'm sure Drummond performed his part admirably. He brings certain authentic talents to the role."

I smiled. "Well, you know, old ladies are so easy."

Phyllis's lips were parting to say something when Jennie swiftly added, "Also, it was Sean who figured out Townsend could be the next target. It was brilliant deductive work. I missed the connection entirely."

Phyllis stared at me a moment, I'm sure thinking how pleased she was that she hired me. She finally said, "Both of you take a moment to pat each other on the back. Then get cleaned up and join us in the conference room."

Watching her back as she walked away Jennie whispered to me, "Don't tangle with that lady, Sean. That's professional advice, if you're interested."

"Yeah, thanks. Let's see… don't mess with her… never screw with you… watch my ass around George-hey, with teamwork like this, why do you think we haven't caught these clowns yet?"

"Have you ever considered…?"

"What?"

"These conflicts-if I'm getting too personal, let me know-but Sean, you have what we call authority issues."

"You mean this is my fault?"

"Look, I really like you…" She paused. "To be perfectly blunt, your career prospects would improve a lot if you stopped taunting your bosses."

"All right. You are getting too personal."

She apparently changed her mind about her promise, however. She said, "In a way, you're like Jason Barnes. Predestination. I'll bet your father was also very strong-willed and overbearing. Transferral. Now you're taking it out on your bosses."

"I'm not… look-"

"You need to hear this."

"I do not."

"I'm offering you an insight into your own nature because… because we're partners and… friends."

"Did it occur to you that partners and friends don't want to be psychoanalyzed?"

"Excuse me-I'm trying to be helpful." She stepped back and stared at me a moment. She asked, "Are we having a fight?"

I was too busy sulking to answer that.

She mentioned, "Because sometimes I am too nosy for my own good."

"Right. Drop the subject."

"Fine." After a moment she remarked, "We're both tired, wrung out, and irritable. We need showers, a decent meal, and sleep."

"Oh… you get less nosy and pushy when you're clean and well rested?"

"Watch it."

"Well… what do you suggest?"

"I thought, after we finish debriefing, we'd slip out for a few hours and get hotel rooms."

"I'm not sure that's-"