He always paid in cash. I’d asked him casually about money. He mentioned investing and something to do with the Internet. But that was the extent of it. Given Damian’s charm and ability to connect with people at every level, anything is possible.

My ex-boyfriend, Terrence, had a friend who made his money as a deal broker connecting people he met at country clubs to businesses looking for capital. If you know people with money and you’re clever, it’s not hard to get into the game.

I tried to ask Damian on a few occasions about his childhood. The impression I got was that he wasn’t a happy kid. I suspect he’d been living on his own since he was a teenager. His ability to fit in and make people like him seems driven by a need to survive.

I’d never had another lover like Damian. I suspect the reason was because lovemaking for him was more about making me happy. I think he really was after my mind. Our relationship was sexual, but his attachment was something else.

I could be in a restaurant filled with gorgeous South Beach models, but never would his eyes stray. He could charm the hell out of a waitress in front of me, yet never appear flirtatious. He made me feel I was the only woman in his world. I still wonder if that’s the case.

Breyer looks over at Chisholm. “What do you think about this character?”

Chisholm has been absorbing this with his normal clinical detachment. It’s unnerving. I catch him watching me out of the corner of his eye.

“He sounds a little like Abagnale if he never wised up,” replies Chisholm.

Frank Abagnale was the teenager who masqueraded as an airline pilot, a doctor and a dozen other fake identities before getting busted for counterfeiting. He was the inspiration for the movie Catch Me If You Can. He’s now a respected businessman and a visiting lecturer at the academy.

Chisholm continues his thought. “Frank Abagnale was an aberration. A sharp kid who got caught up in a game that got out of hand. Nothing sociopathic about him. Damian is different.” He turns to me. “Do you think he believes he’s these other people?”

Chisholm is asking me if I think Damian is delusional. “I don’t know. When I catch him, it’s like he snaps back to himself. Or at least himself as I first met him. He knows what he’s doing most times.”

“Interesting. Multiple personality disorder is a mostly imaginary condition. The best treatment is to send a patient to a facility where they don’t acknowledge it. The condition tends to go away. This situation sounds a lot like what some of our undercover operatives go through. The CIA has an entire program for helping agents who have been in the field for prolonged periods of time deal with the shift back. Most of the criminals we’ve dealt with who’ve used assumed identities for long periods of time are in constant fear. They never forget. The curious thing is that usually the best undercover cops are the ones who test on the edge of being a sociopath. That makes treatment even harder.”