“Looks like he got zilch at the airport, though. Let’s see where he goes next.”

Knox’s next stop was Union Station. Normally he would’ve flooded the area with the images of the altered John Carr, putting them on the metro database, with all the airlines and law enforcement agencies, but he couldn’t do that here. If the FBI recognized the bushy-bearded man as one they’d allowed to slip through their fingers, they would wonder about CIA’s interest in him. And despite Hayes’ assurances that he could keep the FBI at bay, you never knew.

Inside the station Knox hit what might have been the jackpot. A ticket clerk believed she recognized the composite drawing of Stone with the bushy beard and glasses. He’d paid in cash for a coach fare but the clerk couldn’t remember what name was on his ID.

“Do you remember which train he took?”

“Yep. Don’t have many people who pay in cash. He booked the Crescent. To New Orleans.”

“How can I get in touch with somebody who was on that train? A conductor, maybe?”

The woman picked up a phone. Minutes later Knox relayed his request to a supervisor in his office. The man made some calls and told Knox he was in luck. One of the conductors who’d been on that train had just gotten back to town. He came in an hour later to the station after the supervisor phoned him. He was shown the picture but didn’t recognize the man. Knox handed him another composite with the beard and glasses removed.

“Yeah, this could be the guy who got in the fight.”

“Fight?”

“Laid out three guys a lot younger than him on the train.”

“Is that right?”

The conductor went on to explain what had happened, ending with Stone and the other men getting off at the next station. He told Knox the name of the town.

“He wouldn’t give me any ID. Offered to get off the train instead. Little suspicious, I thought.”

“Did you get the names of the other guys?”

“Nope. They said they’d get off the train too and they did. No skin off my nose. Saved me from filing a police report. Damn punks.”

“Give me descriptions of all of them.”

After Knox finished writing this information down he glanced at the supervisor. “Can you pull the ticket records for that train trip?”

“Yeah, but we can’t match them to faces on that train.”

“I’ll take a list of the names anyway. Something might turn up.”

The manager printed out this information and gave it to Knox.

“So is this something big?” the conductor asked eagerly.

“So big you’ll probably never hear anything about it ever again. And I’d strongly suggest that you two gents forget I was ever here.”