"We are."

"Please don't touch the body." She glanced at Harry Muller and said, "If he was murdered, I hope you find who did it."

"We will."

Dr. Gleason bid us farewell and left.

Kate said to me, "Why would a young woman like that want to work in a morgue?"

"Maybe she's looking for Mr. Right." I said, "Let's get to work."

Kate and I moved over to the gurney where Harry's personal effects were laid out, and, still wearing our latex gloves, we began to examine everything-his wallet, watch, pager, binoculars, video camera, digital camera, compass, wire cutters, bird-watcher's guide, and a terrain map that showed the Custer Hill property outlined in red marker, plus the location of the lodge and a few other buildings that were added to the map. Even with latex gloves, we were careful how we handled the items so we wouldn't compromise a fingerprint.

I examined the contents of Harry's wallet and noticed that there was a spare house key in the change pouch, plus his Toyota key, and the Grand Am key for his government car-but no spare key for his camper. If there had been a spare camper key, someone had taken it, and not the state police, who already had his camper key from the key chain. Therefore, another party may have removed the key from his wallet in order to move the camper away from the Custer Hill property. And who could that be?

Kate said, "Nothing here that looks unusual, out of place, or tampered with, but I'll bet there was something on the cameras that was erased."

I replied, "More likely the disk, tape, and Memory Stick were removed and replaced with spares that Harry would be carrying."

Kate nodded. "So the lab won't be able to pull up any erased images."

"I think not."

I picked up Harry's cell phone and turned it on, then scrolled through his recent incoming calls.

There was his girlfriend Lori Bahnik's call at 9:16 A.M. Saturday in response to Harry's call to her at 7:48 A.M., followed by ten more calls from Lori beginning on Saturday afternoon after she'd gotten his text message at 4:02 P.M., then all day Sunday, and even today, Monday.

Then there was the duty officer Ken Reilly's call to Harry at 10:17 P.M. Sunday night in response to Lori's call to the ATTF office.

The next incoming call to Harry's phone was at 10:28 P.M. Sunday from a New Jersey number. I said to Kate, "Isn't this Walsh's home number?"

"It is."

"But he said he didn't call Harry until he got to the office this morning."

"Apparently, he lied."

"Right ... and here's Walsh's call to Harry this morning ... and before that, Ken Reilly was calling through the night from 26 Fed."

She didn't reply for a while, then said, "It would seem that there is a higher level of concern than Tom Walsh has led us to believe."

"That's an understatement." I added, "The fact that Walsh has been bullshitting us leads me to conclude that this was not a routine surveillance."

"I think we already know that."

I looked again at Harry's cell phone and saw my call to him on Sunday afternoon when I suggested we make hunter's stew, then my final call at 9:45 this morning. After that, there were a few more calls from Lori.

Kate was staring at the cell phone. "This is so sad ..."

I nodded. I didn't have Harry's password, so I couldn't play any of his messages, but I knew the Tech people would be able to do that.

I scrolled through Harry's recently dialed numbers and saw the call he made to Lori Bahnik at 7:48 A.M. on Saturday morning, then the text message on Saturday afternoon at 4:02 P.M., then nothing.

I was about to shut off the phone when it rang, startling both of us.

I looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Lori Bahnik. I glanced at Kate, and I could tell she was upset.

I considered answering the call, but I wasn't prepared to deliver the news with Harry's body five feet away. I shut off the phone and put it back on the gurney.

I glanced at my watch. It wouldn't be much longer before the state police and FBI agents arrived from Albany. Plus, the two guys from the Task Force must have landed at Saranac Lake airport by now. I wondered who Walsh had sent to replace us. Probably people who followed orders.

I said to Kate, "Let's look at his clothing before the fuzz arrive."

She went to the sink and washed the mentholated jelly off her lip while I took the opportunity to pocket the terrain map. Taking evidence from a crime scene is a felony, but I thought I might need the map and justified it by recalling Walsh's lying to me, and by the fact that I, and not Harry, could have been on that slab.

Kate was at the second gurney now, sniffing at Harry's shirt. She said, "I'm not sure ... this could be tobacco smoke ..."

I couldn't smell anything except the menthol under my nose, but I said, "Who do we know who smokes?"

She nodded.

We went through the clothing, piece by piece, noticing the cellophane tape that Dr. Gleason had used to fix the four animal hairs. We weren't exactly doing anything we weren't allowed to do, but on the other hand, we weren't supposed to be here; we were supposed to be at the state police headquarters in Ray Brook. Also, there's the chain-of-evidence thing, and anyone who handles evidence needs to log in, which we hadn't done. And then you had the FBI and state police investigators who might not take kindly to seeing us when they arrived. In other words, we were in a sort of gray area, which is where I spend a lot of my time. More important, we had a good jump on this, but now it was time to leave.

I said to Kate, "Let's go."

But she said, "Look at this."

I moved closer to her. She was holding Harry's camouflage pants, and she had pulled his right-side pocket inside out. "See this?"

I examined the white pocket lining and saw blue marks that appeared to have been made with a pen.

Kate said, "These could be letters."

Indeed, they could be. As though Harry had written on the white fabric with his hand in his pocket. Or, if Harry was as careless as I was, maybe he'd just shoved an uncapped pen in there.

Kate put the pants on the gurney and we both bent closer, trying to decipher the blue marks, which were definitely ink and did not look random.

I said to her, "You go first."

"Okay ... there are three groupings of marks ... the one that is most legible says, M-A-P ... the next group looks like ... an N ... then maybe a U or a V ... then an asterisk ... no, a K ... then the last group looks like ... E-L-F ..." She looked at me and said, "Elf?"

I stared at the ink marks. "M-A-P could be M-A-D. I mean, he's writing this blind with his hand in his pocket. Right?"

"Probably ..."

"Then, NUK ... and here's another mark almost hidden in the seam ... so ... maybe NUKE."

We looked at each other, then Kate said, "Nuke? Like, nuclear?"