"I am. Thats what this business is all about.... Theres another axiom that goes back to when the pharaons sent spies up into Macedonia. The abused can make all the accusations he likes, but the abuser keeps his mouth shut. Why would Henry tell anyone of consequence about the trouble between us? It would raise questions about his own conduct. The salient point here is, who else might he have told? Someone who would immediately see the advantage of taking him out, cutting off my control since I couldnt be reached."

"I really dont see the connection," protested the secretary of state. "What control?"

"He was my inside man until I found you, Mr. Palisser."

"I still dont understand-"

"Neither do I," said Tyrell, interrupting. "Maybe Phyllis can help us out."

4:29 P.M.

The vapor was so dense that the figure in the corner of the steam room could barely be seen. The hissing came to a stop, the door opened, and a second person came inside, propping the door open and carrying a large towel to the sole naked inhabitant on the tile seat. The steam rushed out in billows and streaks, revealing the sweat-drenched body of Senator Nesbitt. His eyes were in that phase between glazed and focused, his mouth open, sucking in the remaining vapors.

"I blacked out again, didnt I, Eugene?" he said hoa.r.s.ely as he rose unsteadily to his feet, accepting the towel that was draped over his shoulders by his driver-bodyguard.

"Yes, sir. Margaret spotted the signs just after lunch-"

"My G.o.d, its afternoon?" broke in the senator, close to panic.

"You havent done that in a long time, sir," said the bodyguard, leading his disturbed employer out of the steam room toward a shower several feet away. "Only one or two slips," he added.

"Thank heavens its summer and the Senates in recess.... Did you take me to ... Maryland?"

"We couldnt, there wasnt time. The doctor came down here instead. He gave you a couple of shots and told us what to do."

"There wasnt time ...?"

"You have an appointment at the White House, Senator. We have to pick up the countess and her nephew at seven-fifteen."

"Oh, Jesus, Im a wreck!"

"Youll be fine, sir. After your shower Maggie will give you a ma.s.sage and a B1 shot, then you rest for an hour before dressing. Youll be in top shape, boss."

"Top shape, Eugene?" Nesbitts expression was pathetic. "Im afraid not, my friend, thats a luxury I may never know. I live with a horrible nightmare, in that nightmare. It strikes without warning and I have no control over it. I sometimes think almighty G.o.d tests me to the edge of my endurance, to see if I will commit the mortal sin of taking my own life to remove the pain."

"Not while were around, sir," said the bodyguard-keeper, gently placing his naked charge on a white plastic stool beneath the shower head and slowly turning on the lukewarm water, gradually making it colder and colder until icelike sprays pounded the politicians body. "Your heads a little messed up at certain times, sir, but like the doctor says, you can function otherwise better than the best of them.... Were getting a little cooler now, sir. Stay here, please."

"Aughh!" cried Nesbitt as the cold spray a.s.saulted him. "Thats enough, Eugene!"

"Not yet, sir, just a few moments longer."

"Im freezing!"

"Ill shut it off in about fifteen seconds, thats what the doctor said."

"I cant stand it!"

"Four, three, two, one-off, sir." Once again the nurse-c.u.m-guard threw the heavy towel over his patient and helped him to his feet. "Hows that, Senator? Youre back in the land of the living, sir."

"They say theres no cure, Eugene," replied the senator softly, his eyes clear, his facial muscles in place as he stepped out of the shower with his drivers a.s.sistance. "They say it either goes away with time and therapy, or yon take ma.s.sive drugs to contain it. Naturally, they diminish the a.s.saulted brain to the point of dysfunction."

"Theres none of that c.r.a.p while were around, sir."

"Yes, I understand, Eugene, and my grat.i.tude is such that you and Margaret will be well compensated after Im gone. But, good G.o.d, man, Im two people! And I never know when one takes over the other. Its pure h.e.l.l!"

"We kinda know, sir, and so do your friends in Maryland. Well all take care of you."

"Do you realize, Eugene, that I havent the vaguest idea where those friends of mine in Maryland ever came from?"

"Sure you do, sir. Their doctor came down to see us after we had that little problem in the adult movie place in Bethesda. You didnt do anything wrong; it was just that a couple of people thought they recognized you."

"I have no memory of that."

"Thats what the doctor figured.... Hey, its all gone, right, boss? Youre back on track, and you got a big night, right? The President, sir! Youre gonna make a lot of points with the voters with this rich countess and her richer kid nephew, right?"

"Yes, I guess I will, Eugene. Lets have Margarets ma.s.sage and a short nap."

5:07 P.M.

The permanent secretary to the interim director of the Central Intelligence Agency had for the third time taken the call from London, finally making it clear that the newly installed temporary DCI, having "gotten the word from the Little Girl Blood unit," was up to his neck in emergency meetings all over Washington, currently with the Presidents Cabinet at the White House, and would get back to the chairman of MI-6, Special Branch, as soon as the crisis pa.s.sed. She had been as firm as her position allowed, perhaps dangerously firm, but there was no alternative. With Dulles airport successfully executed, she was the final checkpoint; the news from London could not get past her. She looked at the crystal clock on her desk; it was her last few minutes in that office.

Scorpio Seventeen gathered up the materials in front of her, rose from the desk, and approached her emplovers door; she knocked. "Come in," said the voice inside.

"Its that time of day, sir." The secretary opened the door and walked through, carrying the papers and a stack of messages. "Here are the notes you wanted, as well as the calls thatve piled up while you were on the phone. My Lord, its like the Whos Who in Washington; everyones trying to reach you." She placed the papers on the directors desk.

"Everybodys got advice and wants me to know how much they think of me. Naturally, itll all disappear once the President nominates his permanent choice for this job."

"I thought you knew-"

"Knew what?"

"The Beltway rumor is that he likes you, respects your record here, and knows that the Agency upper levels want you to take over rather than some amateur from the political hat box."

"Ive heard it, but I wouldnt bank my mortgage on it. The Mans got a lot of political debts, and a deputy director isnt one of them."

"Well, if thats all, Ill head for home and hearth, sir."

"Nothing from the Little Girl unit? I was to be informed immediately."

"The messages in the pile. You were on the phone with the Vice President."

"d.a.m.n it, you should have broken in!"

"There was nothing to break in with, sir. I dont know all the circ.u.mstances, but I a.s.sumed that 'no dice in London meant what it usually means. The operation didnt pan out."

"G.o.dd.a.m.n!" exploded the temporary DCI. "If I could have delivered on this one, I might have had a chance!... Wheres whats-his-name, the fellow that headed up the unit?"

"He and the others have been here since three this morning, over fifteen hours with very little sleep before that. The way he put it was that he was closing up shop and hopes for a better day tomorrow-after they got the red out of their eyes."

"All right, Ill speak to him tomorrow. You, too, of course."

"Ill stay if you like."

"What for? To watch me lick my wounds and start my good-byes to this pretty d.a.m.ned impressive office? Go home, Helen."

"Good night, Mr. Director."

"It has a nice sound, doesnt it?"

The secretary drove into the nearest shopping center in Langley, Virginia, locked her car, and walked to a pay phone on the pavement next to a supermarket. She inserted a coin, dialed a number long committed to memory, and waited for the usual series of beeps. She then dialed five additional digits and in moments, a voice was there. "Utah, I presume?"

"Number Seventeen.... As it must eventually happen with most of us, my time has come. I cant go back in the morning."

"I kind of figured that. Ill get you out of the country tonight. Take as little as possible with you."

"Theres basically nothing. Everything I want is already in Europe, has been for several years."

"Where?"

"That I wont tell even you."

"Fair enough. When do you want to leave?"

"As soon as I can. Theres nothing I need from my apartment except my pa.s.sport and some jewelry. Ill get there in a taxi. Everything should remain the way it is, as if Id never returned. I live near here, so I can be ready in fifteen or twenty minutes."

"Then take the cab to Andrews and go to security. Youll be cleared for the next diplo-military shuttle to Paris."

"Good choice. When is it?"

"In about an hour and a half. Have a good life, Seventeen."

"I intend to. Ive earned it."

36.

Having instructed Poole to stay by the phone at the Shenandoah Lodge, basically for news about Catherine Neilsen, Hawthorne drove down the tree-lined suburban street, swinging into the curb in front of the house of Captain Henry Stevens, murdered head of naval intelligence. In the driveway was a gray Navy Department vehicle, a security patrol car. An armed and uniformed chief petty officer admitted Tyrell; the man nodded toward the living room, where a woman dressed in black stood looking out a window at the far end.

The meeting between Phyllis and Tye was at first the awkward reunion of two former friends grown apart by the distance born of a deep personal loss, now seeing each other again under circ.u.mstances that painfully, inevitably, recalled the earlier tragedy in Amsterdam. More was said in silence, and in their eyes, until Hawthorne approached her and she rushed into his arms, the tears rolling down her cheeks. "Its all so rotten, so G.o.dd.a.m.ned rotten!" she cried.

"I know, Phyll, I know."

"Of course you do!"

They held each other, the unspoken words understood, two decent people who had lost a part of their lives, the folly of those deaths essentially incomprehensible. The long moment pa.s.sed and Hawthorne slowly released Henry Stevenss wife.

"May I get you something, Tye? Tea, coffee, a drink?"

"No, thanks," said Hawthorne, "but a rain checks accepted."

"Then its offered. Sit down, please. Im sure you didnt come out here simply to be kind; youre far too busy for that."

"How much do you know, Phyll?"

"Im an intelligence officers wife, not necessarily a highly intelligent one, but Ive pieced together perhaps more than Henry suspected. My G.o.d, that man went nearly four days without sleep ... and he was worried sick about you, Tye. You must be exhausted."

"You know were hunting someone, then?"

"Obviously. Someone extremely dangerous, with equally dangerous people behind her-"

"Her? You know its a woman?"

"Hank told me that much, a female terrorist from the Baaka Valley. If he hadnt been so tired, I doubt he would have."

"Phyllis," said Hawthorne, leaning forward in a chair next to the widow, looking hard at his old friend from the emba.s.sy in Amsterdam. "Ive got to ask you some questions about the days before Hank was killed. I know its not the time, but we dont have any other-"

"I understand. Ive been around this scene for years, remember?"

"Youre alone here?"

"Not now. My sister flew down from Connecticut to be with me; shes out now."

"I mean you and Hank lived here alone-"

"Oh, yes, with all the usual trappings. Armed navy vehicles cruising around the clock, limousines to pick him up and bring him back from the office, and an alarm system that would frighten rocket scientists. We were secure, if thats your question."