“I’ll toss out a few things,” he said, stacking the photographs and straightening the edges against the tabletop. “Your old friend Nick Grueman’s some kind of player in all this, and I’ve been thinking about the best way to deal with him without tipping our hand. If Marino or I talk to him, he’ll know instantly that something’s up.”

I knew where this was going and I tried to interrupt, but Wesley would not let me. “Marino’s mentioned your difficulties with Grueman, that he calls and in general jerks you around. And then, of course, there is the past, your years at Georgetown. Maybe you should talk with him.”

“I don’t want to talk with him, Benton.”

“He may have photographs of Waddell, letters, other documents. Something with Waddell’s prints. Or maybe there’s something he might say in the course of conversation that would be revealing. The point is, you have access to him, if you wish, through your normal activities, when the rest of us don’t. And you’re going to D.C. anyway to see Downey.”

“No,” I said.

“It’s just a thought.”

He looked away from me and motioned for the waitress to bring the check. “How long will Lucy be visiting you?” he asked.

“She doesn’t have to be back at school until January seventh.”

“I remember she’s pretty good with computers.”

“She’s more than pretty good.”

Wesley smiled a little. “So Marino’s told me. He says she thinks she can help with AFIS.”

“I’m sure she’d like to try.”

I suddenly felt protective again, and torn. I wanted to send her back to Miami, and yet I didn’t.

“You may or may not remember, but Michele works for the Department of Criminal justice Services, which assists the State Police in running AFIS,” Wesley said.

“I should think that might worry you a little right now.” I finished my brandy.

“There isn’t a day of my life that I don’t worry,” he said.

The next morning a light snow began to fall as Lucy and I dressed in ski clothes that could be spotted from here to the Eiger.

“I look like a traffic cone,” she said, staring at her blaze orange reflection in the mirror.

“That’s right If you get lost on a trail. It won’t be hard to find you.”

I swallowed vitamins and two aspirin with the sparkling water from the minibar.

My niece eyed my outfit, which was almost as electric as hers, and shook her head. “For someone so conservative, you certainly dress like a neon peacock for sports.”

“I try not to be a stickin- the-mud all of the time. Are you hungry?”

“Starved.”

“Benton’s supposed to meet us in the dining-room at eight-thirty. We can go down now if you don’t want to wait.”

“I’m ready. Isn’t Connie going to eat with us?”