Stone read the message: At some time before the end of the Democratic convention, Katharine Rule Lee will die. We are patriots who have sworn to return the United States to a strict, constitutional republic, and we regard Mrs. Lee as a clear and present danger to her country, since she will slavishly support the criminal policies put into effect by William Jefferson Lee.

We have supporters in both houses of Congress and in the government bureaucracy, and even in the Secret Service, and we have the means and expertise to carry out our promises. We are quite willing to die in pursuit of our ideals, if that should become necessary.

There will be nothing you can do to stop us. It was signed, The Patriots.

—

“WHAT DO YOU make of this?” Stone asked.

“I’m no psychologist,” Beam said, “but I’ve seen a lot of this stuff over the years. The writer is probably an individual and there is probably no group involved. He exaggerates or, more likely, simply lies about his support in the Congress and the government.”

“What about his claim of someone in your service?”

“I believe that is in the realm of preposterous.”

“And his claim of the means to kill Mrs. Lee?”

“Anybody with a gun has the means to kill anybody else.”

“Do you believe this man is a serious threat or just crazy?”

“Conceivably both, but in any case we will take his threat seriously, as we do all threats. The part about being willing to die is probably true—in fact, that may be what he intends.”

“How did he get your e-mail address?”

Beam looked at his shoes for a moment. “That is the single most disturbing thing about the threat. I’ve got a tech team working on where his e-mail came from, and I’ve got two agents working on how he could have discovered my secure address.”

“How many people have that address?”

“Knowledge of it is restricted to our director, two deputy directors in Washington, and in L.A. to three supervisory agents. It’s used for the most confidential communications.”

“How about secretaries, clerical workers, cleaning ladies?”

“None of the above, but an employee might root it out if he had access and enough time.”

“What are your chances of backtracking to find the sender?”

“Fair to good, unless he’s very, very smart and capable. We’ll assume he is.”

“Is there anything you’d like me to do?”

“Mrs. Lee tells me she and the president are having dinner in this house tomorrow night. I just want you to know that, from eight A.M. tomorrow, my agents will be all over the house and the property. We’ll be as unobtrusive as possible.”

“Actually, we’ll be having dinner outdoors, by the pool, weather permitting.”

“Then we’ll set up a perimeter.” Beam extended a hand. “May I have the e-mail back, please?”

Stone handed it to him.