I didn't respond.

We left Potsdam and headed south on Route 56. It was 6:01 P.M., and the road was getting dark. The windows of the scattered houses were lit, and I could see smoke rising from chimneys. The Columbus Day holiday was coming to an end; dinner was on the stove. Tomorrow was a workday and a school day. Normal people were gathered around the television, or the fireplace, or wherever normal people gathered.

Kate seemed to know what I was thinking and said, "We could buy a weekend house that would eventually become our retirement home."

"Most people don't retire to the snow and ice."

"We could learn to ski and ice-skate. You could learn to hunt and shoot bears."

I smiled, and we held hands.

Her cell phone rang, and she looked at it. "Private. Probably Walsh."

"Take it."

She answered, listened, then said, "We're on our way there, Tom." She listened again, then responded, "We went to the hospital and made a positive ID on Harry."

Whatever Walsh said, it wasn't nice, and Kate held the phone away from her ear in a theatrical gesture. I could hear Walsh fulminating.

I don't like it when someone screams at my wife, so I took the phone from Kate and heard Walsh conclude, "You're his supervisor, so you are responsible for him not following my orders. I kept you on this case against my better judgment, and I told you to go directly to the state police headquarters, and I meant it. Are you an FBI agent or are you a nice dutiful wife?"

I replied, "Hi, Tom. Kate's husband here."

"Oh ... do you take your wife's calls, too? I'm speaking to Kate."

"No, you're speaking to me. If you ever raise your voice to my wife again, I'll take you apart. Understand?"

He didn't answer immediately, then said, "You're going down, pal."

"Then you're going with me."

"I don't think so."

"I do. And by the way, I scrolled through Harry's cell phone, and you forgot to tell us you called him Sunday night, and the duty officer was calling all through the night."

This kept him quiet for a second. Then he asked, "So what?"

I felt that our professional relationship was deteriorating, and that he was contemplating how best to involve me in an involuntary career event, i.e., having me fired. I said to him, "Despite your best efforts, I will get to the bottom of this."

He surprised me by saying, "If you do, let me know what you find."

I guess this meant that Washington was not being totally straight with him, which may or may not have been true. In any case, Walsh was following orders, and I was not, which was causing Special Agent in Charge Thomas Walsh some problems. I said, "Eventually, you'll thank me for my extraordinary initiative."

"Your fucking initiative looks a lot like insubordination and failure to follow orders. Also, you're spending a lot of time and energy investigating the Bureau instead of doing your job."

"What's my job?"

"Your job was to find Harry. He's found. You can come home."

"No, now I need to find his killer."

"You need to find his killer? You? Why is it always you?"

"Because I don't trust you. Or the people you work for."

"Then resign."

"Tell you what-if I come up empty on this case, you'll have my resignation on your desk."

"When?"

"A week."

"That's a deal. Saves me the trouble of filling out the paperwork to fire you."

"And I don't want to hear any more bullshit about us being taken off this case."

"One week."

I handed the phone back to Kate, who said, "Tom, please call Major Schaeffer and tell him we are the designated investigating agents on this case, and to extend to us all the requisite courtesies and so forth."

Walsh said something, and Kate replied, "No, we don't have any new information or leads, but if we do, we'll certainly share them with you."

I guess she forgot about finding that writing in Harry's pocket, and us speaking to the medical examiner. Selective memory is part of the Corey Method of dealing with the bosses.

She listened for a while, then said, "I understand."

Kate started to say something else, then realized the phone was dead. She shut it off.

I asked, "Understand what?"

"Understand that we have seven days to perform a miracle, and if we don't, we're history."

"No problem."

"And it better be a big miracle. Nothing small like finding a dumb hunter who admits to killing Harry by accident."

"Okay. That's reasonable."

"And if we're going after Mr. Bain Madox for murder, and we fail, Walsh will see to it that we both wind up as security guards at Kmart."

"This is getting challenging."

"Right. Well, you opened your big mouth."

"Thank you for reminding me. What else?"

"Well ... he said our investigation is limited to a possible homicide. Not to anything else that concerns Madox. That's for the Justice Department to handle."