"If this Daemon existed, why would it care that you were good at a game? So what? It just means you have lots of time on your hands…"

Ross raised his eyebrows and waited.

It suddenly dawned on Merritt."…which is the case for most misfits." Merritt was starting to see the devilish logic in it. Wasn't Sobol famous for devilish logic? Hadn't Merritt seen it at his estate?

Ross slid the DVD player back into his cheap attach case. "The Daemon tested my knowledge of cryptography and networked systems. I was shown the video to establish the veracity of the Daemon's claims. The entire estate siege was captured by Sobol's security cameras. He has a clickable presentation in the inner sanctums of his online world. It shows every moment of the siege, from inside and outside the house. For the typical black-hat hacker, this video establishes beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Daemon is authentic."

Merritt was shaking his head, but not vigorously.

"In fact, this video has gone viral in the darknet. Among Daemon operatives you're something of a larger-than-life hero, Agent Merritt."

"For what?"

"For surviving the worst that Sobol could throw at you. You're darknet-famous."

"What's a darknet?"

"Not a darknet, the darknet. Imagine a network, like the Internet, but more sophisticated and much more exclusive, populated only by humans the Daemon has recruited."

Merritt frowned.

Ross changed the subject. "In any event the Daemon detected my video applet, and I was ejected before I could capture the whole thing. If it knew my real name and address, I suppose I would be dead now. But it doesn't know my real name. No one does. And no one ever can."

Merritt wasn't thinking about calling for backup anymore. What if Ross was telling the truth? Far from being over, something might just be starting. Something terrible. He looked up at Ross. "I'll need to see more evidence."

"That can be arranged." He stood and motioned for Merritt to follow him. "Walk with me."

Merritt struggled to his feet and limped after Ross as he headed off through the park.

"I'm innocent, Agent Merritt. So is Peter Sebeck."

"The detective?" Merritt remembered the local cop who had been convicted in the conspiracy. "He's on death row."

"Yes. That's partly why I'm here."

"So that's the angle; you're here to free your partner."

"For godsakes, who would be smart enough to steal a couple hundred million dollars, but then stupid enough to wire the money to tax havens controlled by Western intelligence agencies? Why would Sebeck keep fake passports in safe deposit boxes under his own name? Sobol stole Sebeck's identity."

Merritt smirked. "And this Daemon stole your identity, too, I imagine?"

Ross shook his head. "No. Sobol didn't anticipate me, and his Daemon still doesn't know who I am. But it's trying to find out-because I'm the only one fighting it."

Merritt regarded him. "So, who are you, Mr. Ross?"

"I already told you, no one-"

"I don't want your name. I want to know who you are."

They walked on for a while in silence, Ross considering the question. Before long he turned to Merritt. "I came here on an H1-B visa."

"A foreign tech worker?"

"Yes. I was brought in for Y-two-K remediation and stayed through the Internet bubble. They billed us out as expert developers to large multinational corporations at two hundred and twenty dollars an hour."

"Who billed you out?"

"The Russian mafia."

Merritt let out an involuntary laugh.

Ross sighed. "There was a lot of money sloshing around back then-and a lot of Russian tech talent. An illegal trade developed."

Merritt's instinct was to keep laughing. Except he couldn't think of any particular reason why it couldn't be true. It seemed all too possible. Was he being nave again?

Ross urged Merritt to keep moving. "We developed secure e-commerce sites and Web solutions. Pound for pound, we probably pulled in more revenue than prostitutes-plus, the money didn't need to be laundered."

"Get to the part where you become an identity thief."

"The tech bust. There was a falling-out between some of our handlers toward the end. I took advantage of the confusion to disappear. Most of my compatriots were brought back to the Russian Federation, where I assume they are still in servitude to this day. I stole an American identity-a Mr. Jon Ross. He had a suitable academic background for my purposes."

"Where did you learn how to do that?"

"I worked on a lot of credit card systems and projects for various state governments. I learned how the systems work, and I created a place for myself within them." He looked up at Merritt. "I just wanted my freedom, Agent Merritt. I never stole from Mr. Ross. In fact, he sold me his identity, and I substantially improved his FICO score."

"How is it you speak English so well? You sound like you're from Ohio."

"My father worked with the Russian consulate here in D.C. during the Cold War." Ross pointed toward the Potomac. "I grew up in Fairfax."

Merritt kept shaking his head-but then, he didn't know what to believe.

Ross grew somber. "After the fall of the Berlin Wall, we were recalled to Russia. My father was murdered by Communist hard-liners in the 1992 coup attempt."

Merritt searched for signs of dissembling-rapid facial movements, fluttering of the eyes. Ross displayed only a wistful calm. A melancholy.

In a few moments Ross brightened. "Well, that was a long time ago." He gestured to the government buildings around them. "I have always held a deep admiration for the founding fathers of your republic. Your Constitution and your Bill of Rights were an incredible gift to mankind. Although lately America appears to have strayed from the path set forth by its founders."

Merritt regarded him with some annoyance. "Well, that's swell of you to emerge from the wreckage of Communism to tell us we'vestrayed from the true path. That means so much, coming from an admitted thief. And your theory about the Daemon would also be great, except for the mountain of evidence pointing straight at Detective Sebeck, and Cheryl Lanthrop, and you."

Ross tried to talk, but Merritt steamrolled onward. "Sebeck admittedto having an affair with Lanthrop. She was the same person who pulled millions out of offshore banks before the funds were frozen."

Ross shook his head. "Sobol could have stolen her identity, too."

Merritt was nonplussed. "There's bank camera video of her withdrawing funds. She was a medical executive in a position to betray Sobol."

"Sobol had a controlling interest in that MRI company. He could have placed anyone he wanted there."

"Well, she conveniently turned up dead in Belize, so I guess we'll never know. And you-or someone working with you-probably put the bullet in her head. Or did a computer do that, too?"

"She was killed four months ago. By then the Daemon had people working for it. Namely, the criminal rings running online gambling and pornography-very dangerous people. Take my word for it."

"Right. I'm sure you can figure out a way to work in alien abduction and crop circles, too."

"Agent-»

"I'm not an idiot, Mr. Ross-or whatever your name is. You had every motive and every capability of killing Lanthrop, Pavlos, Singh, and the others. You had tens of millions of motives-all of them currently stuck in frozen bank accounts."

"If I did all that, why would I have come within miles of this case? Why would I have assisted Sebeck at all?"

"Because you're vain. Or so smart you think everyone else is stupid."

"The video Sobol sent to Sebeck-"

"That e- mail was analyzed and determined not to be Sobol, and the only person who ever spoke to Sobol on the phone was Sebeck. The message from Boerner left on Sebeck's voice mail? Also not Sobol. Then there's the Hummer at the estate that tried to kill everyone butyou and Pete Sebeck. What am I leaving out, Mr. Ross?"