"Absolutely."

"Thanks. Best to Mo."

"Hello to Kate."

I hung up and left the kitchen. I needed to find a better place to run this operation.

I made my way out of the Great Hall, into the rotunda, then out the door, where I saw my car with Kate at the wheel.

I jumped in the passenger seat and said, "Okay, we'll know something about Mikhail Putyov by noon."

She put the Taurus in gear and off we went.

I looked at the dashboard clock. "Do you think we can get there in thirty minutes?"

"That's why I'm driving, John."

"Do I need to remind you of your sheer panic in Manhattan traffic?"

"I don't panic ... I practice tactical evasion techniques."

"So does everyone around you."

"Very funny. Hey, what's in the backseat?"

I glanced over my shoulder. "Oh, I thought ahead and had the chef pack us a picnic lunch."

"Good thinking. Did you meet him?"

"I did. Henry. Henri. Whatever."

"Were you awful?"

"Of course not. He's doing pigs-in-the-blanket during cocktails. Just for me."

I don't think she believed me.

We passed through the gates, down the narrow, tree-lined lane, and turned onto the road. Kate gassed it, and we were off to see the state police unless they saw us first and pulled us over for reckless driving.

Kate inquired, "Anything new with Major Schaeffer?"

"There is. He took my advice and began surveillance on the Custer Hill property."

"And?"

"And, that Enterprise rental car we saw there, which was Putyov's, was returned last night to the airport."

"So, Putyov's gone?"

"If he is, he didn't leave last night from the airport. He ... or maybe it was someone else driving his car ... went back to the Custer Hill Club in a van." As she drove, I filled her in, then took the rental agreement from my pocket and perused it. I said, "This guy Putyov rented the car Sunday morning. That means he flew in that day on the flight from Boston or Albany-"

"Boston," she said. "I checked the flight manifests. Mikhail Putyov arrived at Adirondack Regional Airport, Lake Saranac, at nine twenty-five A.M. Sunday."

"Right. He lives in Cambridge." I glanced at the rental agreement. "Putyov rented the car for two days, so he was supposed to turn it in today. Instead, it was returned to the airport parking lot last night." I asked her, "Did you check the flight reservations we got from Betty?"

"I did. Putyov is scheduled to depart today on the twelve forty-five to Boston."

"Okay. We'll check that out." I thought a moment, then said, "I'm wondering why Putyov came in for this gathering later than the others, and why he is apparently still there after everyone else has left."

"That depends on why he's there. Maybe he has oil business with Madox."

"Mr. Madox is a busy man. And a multi-tasker. A social weekend with old and powerful friends, then he murders a Federal agent, then he winds up the weekend with a Russian from Cambridge, Massachusetts. I don't know how he fit us into his schedule."

Kate commented, "I don't think Harry was part of his weekend plans."

But he may have been.

We headed east on Route 86, and Kate seemed to be having fun passing in the oncoming lane as huge trucks hurtled toward us. I said, "Slow down."

"I can't. The gas pedal's stuck, and the brakes are gone. So just close your eyes and get some sleep."

Kate, raised in a rural area, has a lot of these stupid on-the-road jokes, none of which I find funny.

I kept my eyes open and stared out the windshield.

Kate said to me, "I need to call John Nasseff. Do you know him?"

"No, but he has a nice first name."

"He's NCID, attached to the ATTF."

I replied, "W-H-A-T?"

"Naval Criminal Investigation Division, John. He's a commo guy."

"Ask him about my cell phone."

She ignored that and continued, "I was thinking about Fred, the Navy veteran. So, if that clue has any relevance at all, then we should ask a Navy commo guy about ELF and see if we hit on something."

I wasn't sure I was completely following this line of reasoning, but Kate might be onto something. On the other hand, I didn't want to be calling 26 Federal Plaza with questions like that. I said, "I'd rather not call our office."

"Why not? That's where we work."

"Yeah, but you know how everyone there gossips."

"They don't gossip. They exchange and provide information. Information is power. Right?"

"Only when you keep it to yourself. Let's just go online and learn about ELF."