“He was always better at giving orders than explaining them.”

“So who was in the coffin? John Carr? Another body?”

“Neither. In fact there was nothing in the coffin.”

“So Carr might still be alive?”

“He might.”

“Was he a Triple Six? I read part of his military record. He would’ve fit the bill.”

“Take that as your working hypothesis.”

“So that would be the connection to Gray. Do you have reason to believe that Carr and Stone are one and the same?”

“I have no reason to believe that they’re not.”

“So why would Carr kill Gray and possibly Simpson?”

“Not all Triple Six personnel ended their deployment there on good terms. Carr may have been one such.”

“If so, he waited a long time to pull the trigger. And he had just been to Gray’s house. Did he have anything to do with blowing it up?”

“We don’t think so.”

“He could’ve killed Gray when he met with him.”

“Maybe he didn’t have the motivation then.”

“So what changed?”

“That’s for you to find out, Knox. There was the flag and grave marker. A clear sign, I think, that it’s connected to this John Carr and his grave being dug up.”

Knox marveled at how Hayes had gone from knowing very little and letting him find his own way in the investigation to, in a few short moments, shepherding him down the path he wanted. “I don’t disagree. The man just seemed to have done it ass-backwards.”

“Maybe he had his reasons. Regular reports, usual channels. But check back in with me tonight. If you need support, don’t hesitate. We’ll do what we can. Within limits, of course. As I said, not everyone is on the same page over this. Nothing I can do about that. Consensus in intelligence circles these days is as elusive as sectarian peace in Iraq.”

That’s reassuring. The right hand tells me to charge ahead while the left hand uses a knife to slit my throat.

Macklin pressed a button on the armrest of his seat and Knox felt the plane begin a tight bank to the right. Apparently, the flight and discussion were over.

To bolster that deduction Macklin rose without a word and made his way down the aisle to a door at the back of the plane. It clicked shut behind him.

Knox watched the clouds pass by as the plane began its descent through the Virginia sky. A half hour later he was tearing east on Interstate 66 in his Rover.

He would begin with Alex Ford and work his way through the usual suspects. But from what Hayes was both saying and leaving unarticulated, it seemed that all roads might lead right to a man named Oliver Stone.