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nowadays…but high level foul play?”
     
    “ Chris. We’re talking about terrorists here,” General Bradley said emphatically. “No one’s even suggesting anything about Sherwyck. They were guests at a White House State Dinner for chrissake!”
     
    “ The last person to see her is Victor Sherwyck and the next thing we hear is that terrorists are holding her,” Caine declared.
     
    “ Something happened in ‐ between,” General Bradley retorted. “Talk to him. By all means. He should be very helpful. He’s a bachelor, nothing to hide.”
     
    “ He’s an elusive snob.”
     
    “ I know, Chris. That’s why you’ll have to do it in a social setting, among peers, non ‐ directional. He can’t think this is an interrogation.”
     
    Caine said nothing as he deftly switched lanes. General Bradley knew he agreed.
     
    “ In fact, there’s a reception at the Smithsonian tonight. He’s supposed to be there. You’re probably invited yourself—being the southern aristocrat that you are. If not we’ll arrange an invitation.”
     
    “ Yes, sir,” Caine remembered. He had planned on skipping that one.
     
    “ I know you’ll be able to engage him in some cocktail talk. Ease information from him without—” General Bradley paused emphatically and then continued slowly, deliberately, “—without injuring his sensibilities. And for God’s sake Chris, don’t accuse him of anything! Sherwyck’s been a close adviser to the last three Presidents. He’s practically a national institution.”
     
    “ Yes, sir.” Colonel Caine gazed out his window at the Jefferson Memorial as they skirted the Tidal Basin toward the Potomac.
     
    “ Poor Jeannie,” he thought. He remembered the few times, he himself, had spent with her; an uninhibited, beautiful young woman who thought the world was inhabited by people in tuxedos and evening gowns. It was Jeannie who was most vulnerable, he thought, and now Caine felt somehow better that he had never tried to seduce her.
     
    As he drove his General across the George Mason Bridge a charcoal mockingbird sallied from the treetops lining the Tidal Basin and bounded along above them. When the car crossed the bridge, the bird veered off. It flew to the Lincoln Memorial then darted back along the Reflecting Pool toward the Washington Monument and the Mall beyond, finally alighting on a ledge of the old red Castle of the Smithsonian Institution.
     
    Chapter 2
     
    “ Damn it!” said the President as he entered the Oval Office and hurried to his desk. He was followed close behind by a small group of aides and advisers. He sat down heavily in his ornate leather chair.
     
    “ The conspiracy theorists are going to have a field day with this one. McConnell’s been at my throat for most of my term. Legislative blackmail! She’s a flaming ideologue! Now, I’ll bet you half this country is going to think I had something to do with Jeannie’s disappearance!”
     
    The advisers arranged around his desk looked at him impassively. “All right. Half the kooks in this country,” the President stated, as if in explanation.
     
    “ We understand, Mr. President,” soothed George Brandon, his chief of staff. “It’s just that it’s sometimes hard to separate personal matters from affairs of state—especially in this age of the internet and tabloid newspapers. Everybody’s an expert and anything goes.”
     
    “ I know, George, I know,” the President said with frustration. “Twenty or thirty years ago, this kind of reaction wouldn’t have entered my mind—or yours. I’m afraid as a society, we’ve slipped down a few more notches. What is it in the last half century that we’ve lowered the threshold on everything we used to believe in?”
     
    “ Jeannie’s disappearance could well be linked with affairs of state,” added Paul McCallister, a senior adviser. “Unless we come by other information to the contrary, we have to presume that some terrorist group or network