"It may be a heavy conspiracy," Emmett said finally, his tone vague. "We can't take the chance the Secret Service is wrong."

"They've been wrong before," Miller said.

"Not on this one."

Miller gave Emmett a curious look. "You've given out damned little information to work with. Why the great secrecy?"

Emmett didn't answer, so Miller dropped the subject. He passed three file folders across the desk. "Here's the latest data on kidnapping operations, the Mexican Zapata Brigade's hostage activities, and one I'm in the dark about."

Ennnett gave him a cold stare. "Can you be more explicit?"

"I doubt if there's a connection, but since they acted strange-"

"Who are you talking about?" Emmett demanded, picking up the file and opening the cover.

"A Soviet representative to the United Nations, name of Aleksei Lugovoy-"

"A prominent psychologist," Emmett noted as he read.

"Yes, he and several of his staff members on the World Health Assembly have gone missing."

Emmett looked up. "We've lost them?"

Miller nodded. "Our United Nations surveillance agents report that the Russians left the building Frinay night-"

"This is only Saturday morning," Emmett interrupted. "You're talking a few hours ago. What's so suspicious about that?"

"They went to great lengths to shake our shadows. The special agent in charge of the New York bureau checked it out and discovered none of the Russians returned to their apartments or hotels.

Collectively they dropped from sight."

"Anything on Lugovoy?"

"All indications are he's straight. He appears to steer clear of the Soviet mission's KGB agents."

"And his staff?"

"None of them have been observed engaging in espionage activities either."

Emmett looked thoughtful for several moments. Ordinarily he might have brushed the report aside or at most ordered a routine follow-up.

But he had a nagging doubt. The disappearance of the President and Lugovoy on the same night could be a mere coincinence. "I'd like your opinion, Don," he said at last.

"Hard to second-guess this one," Miller replied. "They may all show up at the United Nations on Monday as though nothing had happened.

On the other hand, I'd have to suggest that the squeaky clean image Lugovoy and his staff have projected may be a screen."

"For what purpose?"

Miller shrugged. "I haven't a clue."

Emmett closed the file. "Have the New York bureau stay on this.

I want priority-one updates whenever they're available."

"The more I think about it," Miller said, "the more it intrigues me."

"How so?"

"What vital secrets could a bunch of Soviet psychologists want to steal?"

SUCCESSFUL SHIPPING LINE MAGNATEs travel through the glittering waters of the international jet set in grand fashion. From exotic yachts to private airliners, from magnificent villas to resplendent hotel suites, they roam the world in an unending pursuit of power and wealth.

Min Koryo Bougainville cared nothing for a freewheeling lifestyle.

She spent her waking hours in her office and her nights in small but elegant quarters on the floor above. She was frugal in most matters, her only weakness being a fondness for Chinese antiques.