"Then I'll keep my mouth shut. I'm sure Jimmy will want to tell you in his own time."

"Congratulations, Tom," said Su Ling, as she opened the front door. "I'm so pleased for both of you."

"That's kind of you," said Julia, as Tom handed his hostess a bunch of flowers.

"So when are you going to get married?"

"Sometime in August," said Tom, "we haven't settled on a date, in case you and Luke werebooked for another trip to Disneyland, or Nat was off for a spell of night ops with the reserves."

"No, Disneyland is a thing of the past,"

said Su Ling, "Can you believe Luke's now talking about Rome, Venice and even Aries- and Nat's not due down at Fort Benning until October."

"Why Aries?" asked Tom.

"It's where Van Gogh ended his days," said Julia as Nat walked into the room.

"Julia, I'm glad you're here, because Luke needs to consult you on a moral dilemma."

"A moral dilemma? I didn't think you started worrying about those until after puberty."

"No, this is far more serious than sex, and I don't know the answer."

"So what's the question?"

"Is it possible to paint a masterpiece of Christ and the Virgin Mary if you are a murderer?"

"It's never seemed to worry the Catholic Church," said Julia. "Several of Caravaggio's finest works are hanging in the Vatican, but I'll go up and have a word with him."

"Caravaggio, of course. And don't stay up there too long," added Su Ling, "there are so many questions I want to ask you."

"I'm sure Tom can answer most of them," said Julia.

"No, I want to hear your version," said Su Ling as Julia disappeared upstairs.

"Have you warned Julia what Ralph Elliot is up to?" asked Nat.

"Yes," Tom replied, "and she can't foresee any problems. After all, why should it ever occur to Elliot that there were two Julia Kirkbridges.

Don't forget, the first one was only with us for a few days and has never been seen or heard of since, whereas Julia has been around for a couple of years now, and everybody knows her."

"But it's not her signature on the original check,"

"Why's that a problem?" asked Tom.

"Because when the bank cleared the $3.6 million, the council asked for the check to be returned to them.""Then it will be tucked away in a file somewhere, and even if Elliot did come across it, why should he be suspicious?"

"Because he has the mind of a criminal. Neither of us thinks like him." Nat paused. "But to hell with that, let me ask you, before Julia and Su Ling return, am I looking for a new chairman, or has Julia agreed to settle in Hartford and wash dishes?"

"Neither," said Tom, "she's decided to accept a takeover bid from that fellow Trump, who's been after her company for some time."

"Did she get a good price?"

"I thought this was meant to be a relaxed evening to celebrate.?"

"Did she get a good price?" repeated Nat.

"Fifteen million in cash, and a further fifteen million in Trump shares."

"That's a PE ratio of about sixteen. Not bad," said Nat, "although Trump obviously believes in the potential of the Cedar Wood project. So does she plan to open a real estate company in Hartford?"

"No, I think she ought to tell you what she has in mind," said Tom as Su Ling returned from the kitchen.

"Why don't we invite Julia to join the board?" asked Nat, "and put her in charge of our property division. That would free me up to spend more time concentrating on the banking side."

"I think you'll find she considered that scenario at least six months ago," said Tom.

"Did you by any chance offer her a directorship if she agreed to marry you?" asked Nat.

"Yes, I did originally, and she turned both down. But now I've convinced her to marry me, I'll leave it to you to persuade her to join the board because I have a feeling she has other plans."

fletcher was on the floor of the chamber listening to a speech on subsidized housing when the proceedings were interrupted. He'd been checking through his notes, as he was due to speak next. A uniformed officerentered the chamber and passed a slip of paper to the presiding member, who read it, and then read it again, banged his gavel and rose from his place. "I apologize to my colleague for interrupting proceedings, but a gunman is holding a group of children hostage at Hartford Elementary. I am sure Senator Davenport will need to leave, and, given the circumstances, I believe it would be appropriate to adjourn for the day."

Fletcher was on his feet immediately and had reached the door of the chamber even before the presiding member had closed the proceedings. He ran all the way to his office, trying to think on the move. The school was in the middle of his district, Lucy was a pupil and Annie was head of the PTA. He prayed that Lucy wasn't among the hostages. The whole of the State House seemed to be on the move.

Fletcher was relieved to find Sally standing by the door to his office, notebook in hand. "Cancel all of today's appointments, call my wife and ask her to join me at the school, and please stay by the phone."

Fletcher grabbed his car keys and joined the flood of people hurrying out of the building. As he drove out of the members' parking lot, a police car shot in front of him. Fletcher pressed his foot down hard on the accelerator and swung into the police car's slipstream as they headed toward the school. The line of cars became longer and longer, with parents making their way to pick up their offspring, some looking frantic after hearing the news on their car radios, others still blissfully unaware.

Fletcher kept his foot on the accelerator, staying only a few feet away from the rear bumper in front of him, as the police car shot down the wrong side of the road, lights blinking, sirens blaring. The policeman in the passenger seat used his loudspeaker to warn the pursuing vehicle to drop back, but Fletcher ignored the ultimatum, knowing they wouldn't stop. Seven minutes later both came to a screeching halt at a police barrier outside the school; where a groupof hysterical parents was trying to find out what was going on. The policeman in the passenger seat leaped out of his car and ran toward Fletcher as he slammed his door closed. The officer drew his pistol and shouted, "Put your hands on the roof." The driver, who was only a yard behind his colleague, said, "Sorry, Senator, we didn't realize it was you."

Fletcher ran to the barrier. "Where will I find the chief?"

"He's set up headquarters in the principal's office. I'll get someone to take you there, Senator."

"No need," said Fletcher, "I know my way."

"Senator ..." said the policeman, but it was too late.

Fletcher ran down the path toward the school, unaware that the building was surrounded by military guards, their rifles all aimed in one direction.

It surprised him to see how quickly the public stood to one side the moment they saw him. A strange way to be reminded that he was their representative.

"Who the hell's that?" asked the chief of police as a lone figure came running across the yard toward them.

"I think you'll find it's Senator Davenport," said Alan Shepherd, the school's principal, looking through the window.

"That's all I need," said Don Culver. A moment later Fletcher came charging into the room. The chief looked up from behind the desk, trying to hide his "that's all I need" look, as the senator came to a halt in front of him.

"Good afternoon, Senator."

"Good afternoon, chief," Fletcher replied, slightly out of breath. Despite the wary look, he rather admired the paunchy, cigar smoking chief of police, who wasn't known for running his force by the book.

Fletcher gave a nod to Alan Shepherd, and then turned his attention back to the chief. "Can you bring me up to speed?" he asked as he caught hisbreath.

"We've got a lone gunman out there. It looks as if he strolled up the main path in broad daylight a few minutes before school was due to come out." The chief turned to a makeshift ground-floor plan taped to the wall, and pointed to a little square with art room printed across it.

"There appears to be no rhyme or reason why he chose Miss Hudson's class, other than it was the first door he came to."

"How many children in there?" Fletcher asked, turning his attention back to the principal.

"Thirty-one," replied Alan Shepherd, "and Lucy isn't one of them."

Fletcher tried not to show his relief. "And the gunman, do we know anything about him?"

"Not a lot," said the chief, "but we're finding out more by the minute. His name is Billy Bates.

We're told his wife left him about a month ago, soon after he lost his job as the night watchman at Pearl's. Seems he was caught drinking on duty once too often. He's been thrown out of several bars during the past few weeks, and, according to our records, even ended up spending a night in one of our cells."

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Davenport," said the principal, rising from his place.

Fletcher turned to see his wife, "Lucy wasn't in Miss Hudson's class,"

were his first words.

"I know," said Annie, "she was with me. When I got your message, I dropped her off with Martha and came straight over."

"Do you know Miss Hudson?" asked the chief.

"I'm sure Alan has told you that everyone knows Mary, she's an institution. I think she's the longest-serving member of staff." The principal nodded. "I doubt if there's a family in Hartford who doesn't know someone who's been taught by her."

"Can you give me a profile?" asked the chief, turning to face Alan Shepherd.

"In her fifties, single, calm, firm and well respected.""And something you left out," added Annie, "much loved."

"What do you think she'd be like under pressure?"

"Who knows how anyone would react under this sort of pressure," said Shepherd, "but I've no doubt she'd give up her life for those children."

"That's what I feared you'd say," said the chief, "and it's my job to make sure she doesn't have to." His cigar was no longer glowing. "I've got over a hundred men surrounding the main block and a sniper on top of the adjacent building who says he occasionally gets a sighting of Bates."

"Presumably you're trying to negotiate?" said Fletcher.

"Yes, there's a phone in the room which we've been calling every few minutes, but Bates refuses to pick it up. We've set up a loudspeaker system, but he's not responding to that either."

"Have you thought of sending someone in?" asked Fletcher as the phone on the principal's desk rang. The chief pressed the intercom button.

"Who's this?" Culver barked.

"It's Senator Davenport's secretary, I was hoping ..."

"Yes, Sally," said Fletcher, "what is it?"

"I've just seen a report on the news that says the gunman is called Billy Bates. The name sounded familiar, and it turns out that we have a file on him-he's been to see you twice."

"Anything helpful in his case notes?"

"He came to lobby you on gun control. He feels very strongly on the subject. In your notes you've written "restrictions not tough enough, locks on triggers, sale of firearms to minors, proof of identification.""

"I remember him," said Fletcher, "intelligent, full of ideas but no formal education.

Well done, Sally."

"Are you sure he isn't just crazy?" asked the chief.

"Far from it," said Fletcher. "He's thoughtful, shy, even timid, and his biggest complaint was that no one ever listened to him.

Sometimes that sort of person feels they haveto prove a point when every other approach has failed. And his wife leaving him and taking the children, just when he's lost his job, may have tipped the balance."

"Then I've got to take him out," said the chief, "just like they did with that guy in Tennessee who locked up all those officials in the revenue office."

"No, that's not a parallel case," insisted Fletcher, "that man had a record as a psychopath. Billy Bates is a lonely man who's seeking attention, the type that regularly comes to see me."

"Well, he's sure grabbed my attention, Senator," responded the chief.

"Which could be precisely why he's gone to such extremes," said Fletcher. "Why don't you let me try and speak to him?"

The chief removed his cigar for the first time; junior officers would have warned Fletcher that meant he was thinking.

"OK, but all I want you to do is to get him to pick up the phone, then I'll take over any negotiations. Is that understood?" Fletcher nodded his agreement. The chief turned to his number two and added, "Dale, tell them that the senator and I are going out there, so hold their fire." The chief grabbed the megaphone and said, "Let's do it, Senator."

As they started walking down the corridor, the chief added firmly, "You're only to step a couple of paces outside the front door, and don't forget your message needs to be simple, because all I want him to do is pick up the phone."

Fletcher nodded as the chief opened the door for him. He took a few steps before he came to a halt and held up the megaphone. "Billy, this is Senator Davenport, you've been to see me a couple of times. We need to speak to you. Could you please pick up the phone on Miss Hudson's desk?"

"Keep repeating the message," barked the chief.

"Billy, this is Senator Davenport, would you please pick up. ."

A young officer came running toward the open door, "He's picked up the phone, Chief,but he says he'll only speak to the senator."

"I'll decide who he talks to," said Culver. "No one dictates to me." He disappeared through the door and almost ran back to the principal's study.

"This is Chief Culver. Now listen, Bates, if you imagine ..." The phone went dead.

"Damn," said the chief as Fletcher walked back into the room. "He hung up on me, we're going to have to try again."

"Perhaps he meant it when he said he would only speak to me."