Wild fire

she said, ‘Moony? Vhat moony?’ Anyway, I don’t think he’s home, or she’d have put him on to claim his money. So, is this guy missing?”

“Maybe. Anything else?”

“No. That’s the basic free introductory offer.”

“Did you get a cell-phone number for this guy?”

“I asked Svetlana and his secretary. They weren’t giving it out, but I’ll bet they called it a few times.”

“Right. How about the phone company? Or the FBI office in Boston?”

“I’ll try the phone company. But I’m not calling my FBI source back. I went as far as I could with him, and he was cooperative, but then he got nosy. We’ve got to leave that alone unless you want to stir up some shit.”

“Okay, leave that alone.”

“Kate, why am I doing this? When I worked for the ATTF, they had their own computers, phones, and files.”

She looked at me, then said to Dick, “Your friend is pursuing his own theory about something.”

“Right. Did you tell him he needs to be a team player?”

“I mentioned that a few times.”

By now, I was rolling my eyes.

Dick said, “Well, when John gets fired, I need some help here.”

Kate replied, “I think he’ll be on the Federal do-not-hire list forever.”

“Okay,” I interrupted, “let’s get back to business. Dick, is there anything else you can think of that might be important or relevant?”

“Relevant to what?”

Good question, and before I could think of an answer, Dick asked, “What’s with the nuke stuff?”

“I don’t think that’s relevant to the homicide investigation.”

“Why would an MIT professor be mixed up with a murder?”

“I thought he might be Russian Mafia, but it doesn’t sound like it. Okay, I’ll-”

“So, did the Arabs snatch this guy?”

“I don’t think so. I’ll take Putyov’s home and work numbers.”

He gave them to us, and said, “Okay, guys, the ball is in your court. Good luck with locating Putyov, and I hope you find the sonofabitch who killed Harry Muller.”

“We will.”

Kate said, “Thanks, Dick.”

“Watch yourselves.”

We hung up, and Kate looked at me. “Nuclear physicist.”

“Right.”

“What’s he doing at the Custer Hill Club?”

“Fixing the microwave oven?”

“John, we need to fly to New York today and have Walsh assemble the appropriate people-”

“Hold on. You’re overreacting. We don’t have any startling information other than a nuclear physicist happened to be a guest at the Custer Hill Club-”

“We have MAD, NUK, ELF, and-”

“Jeez, I hope they found that by now.”

“What if they haven’t?”

“Then they’re stupid.”

“John-”

“We can’t admit to having evidence that we’ve hidden… well, that we just forgot to mention.”

“ We? ” She rose from her chair and said, “You didn’t report it. We have committed a felony. I’m an accessory.”

I also stood. “Don’t you think I’m going to cover for you?”

“I don’t need you to cover for me. We need to report everything we have, including Putyov. Now.”

“For all we know, the FBI knows everything we know, and they’re not sharing it with us-so why should we share it with them?”

“That’s our job.”

“Right. And we will share it. But not now. Think of what we’re doing as a supplemental investigation.”

“No, we’re engaged in an unauthorized investigation.”

“Wrong. Walsh authorized us-”

“Liam Griffith-”

“Fuck him. For all I know, he’s here to bring us a week’s worth of clean underwear.”

“You know why he’s here.”

“No, I don’t. And neither do you.”

She moved closer to me. “John, what’s your agenda?”

“As always, truth and justice.” I added, “Duty, honor, country.”

“Bullshit.”

“Well, the real answer is we need to save our asses. We’re in trouble, and the only way out of that trouble is to bring this case further along toward-”

“And don’t forget your ego. This is John Corey, NYPD, trying to prove that he’s smarter than the whole FBI.”

“I don’t need to prove that. It’s an established fact.”

“I’m going back to New York. Are you coming with me?”

“No. I need to find Harry’s killer.”

She sat on the bed, sort of staring at the floor. Clearly, she was upset.

I stood there for a full minute, then said, “Kate.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “Trust me.”

She didn’t reply for a while, then muttered, almost to herself, “Why can’t we just return to New York and tell Tom everything we know…? And try to salvage our careers…?”

“Because,” I replied, “we’re past the point of no return. There is no turning back.” I added, “Sorry.”

She sat there a bit longer, then stood. “All right… what’s next?”

“ELF.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Kate seemed to have calmed down a little, and resigned herself to the fact that the idiot who got her into this mess was probably the only idiot who could get her out of it.

I was feeling a little pressured by that, but I knew if I stayed focused and solved this case-Harry’s murder and the Madox mystery-then our career problems and personal problems would disappear. And while we were at it, maybe we could also save the planet. As Kate herself said, “Nothing succeeds like success.”

The opposite of that was… well, disgrace, humiliation, dismissal, the unemployment line, and some sort of nuclear surprise. But why be negative?

To make Kate feel part of the solution, I said to her, “Okay, I’ll take your advice, and we’ll call John Nasseff.”

Kate and I sat at the writing desk and took out our notepads.

I’d rather have used Ned’s laptop, but I was pretty certain that John Nasseff, who was a Technical Support guy, was out of the ATTF loop anyway.

She dialed out, using her personal calling card that would not show Wilma’s number on a caller ID, then identified herself to the ATTF operator and asked for Commander Nasseff. She put the phone on speaker, and as