Excuses or realities. Isn’t that too often the question?

He heard Rudd get out of the bed in the next room and open the window shades.

At the airport, Addis called Mikolajczyk. “Talk to me,” said the lawyer’s recorded voice. Addis hung up.

Through the flight to National Airport, Rudd worked on a crossword puzzle. Addis flipped through magazines. It was raining in Washington when they arrived. At the curb, he asked if she wanted to share a cab.

“Think I’ll take my own,” she said, “and go straight to the office.”

“Do you have a moment for me to thank you,” he said.

She shifted on her feet.

“I think so,” she said.

“I know this was a lot to ask. I appreciate it.”

“And thanks for showing me those angels. That was …”

“Something.”

“Yeah, something … . And maybe we should talk some more sometime.”

Thanks, but I think I’ll look for solid ground elsewhere.

“Okay,” he said.

“I hope the trip helped you figure out whatever you have to figure out. I’m sure I’ll read something in the newspaper soon, and it will all make sense.”

“When I can, I’ll let you know what it was—”

“No,” she interrupted, “that’s okay. I don’t need to know.”

The taxi dispatcher waved at her. Rudd had a melancholy expression. Don’t confuse it with regret, Addis told himself. Don’t.

She said good-bye and entered the cab. He got into the next one.

“The White House, please,” he said.

“Yes, I think so,” the driver said. He was wearing a skullcap. A small flag—Eritrean, Addis thought—hung from the rearview mirror. He steered the taxi into the congested traffic.

“Must be a very sad place,” he said.

“Yes, it is.”

“But we get along. People get along.”

“Usually. I suppose they have to.”

The cab crept along.

“Terrible traffic,” the driver said. “Terrible.”

Through the windshield, in between movements of the wipers, Addis could see the cab ahead. Rudd was sitting in the backseat.

Military Jeeps were still patrolling the White House grounds. The hastily constructed barricades that controlled pedestrian traffic on the grounds had not come down. Addis passed through the southern gate and wondered if the new security measures would become a permanent fixture, further isolating the White House from rest of the world.

Another flood of messages, including one from Dunne. Addis asked an intern to check the newspapers of the past two days for stories on the Georgetown University student who was hit by a car and killed while bicycling. The niece of a friend of a friend, Addis explained.