He flushed. “I’m not going to debate that with you, not now anyway. The DoD had a pretty good idea that Spirova was behind the switch. They wanted the whole ugly episode laid to rest. They gave Spirova the choice between working for them or being deported, and she figured the odds of landing in a gulag were better than those of getting a hero’s parade if she went home. She changed her name to Fleming, as I told you, worked at Fort Detrick for about a decade. In the nineties we were being all lovey-dovey with the Russians, and we shut down a lot of weapons programs. The DoD let Spirova go and didn’t think about her again. At least not until about six months ago, when we got whiff of a secret plague lab in eastern Kansas.

“No one believed it at first—conspiracy rumors float around the army, more maybe than in civilian circles. We all know that we can be sent off to fight at a second’s notice, so we’re on hyperalert. Sometimes we don’t know if we’re fighting shadows or real enemies.”

I rubbed my forehead. I was still unbearably weak, and having to listen to Baggetto spin his tale at such length was exhausting. I made a job of swinging my table next to me, pouring water, bathing my eyes.

Baggetto started to sit, but I shook my head: he hadn’t earned it yet.

“Then a farmer in Douglas County died. The symptoms were consistent with pneumonia, which was listed as the cause of death, but Nate Kiel—he’s still active in the public-health service—was worried. He sent a message to an old buddy at Fort Detrick. About that same time, the man who filmed the air force video that you know about, he was dying. He made a deathbed statement that he’d shot the whole thing and lost the only existing reel. When the air force heard what was actually on the reel, they went to DEFCON Two without passing go. I was deployed to Fort Riley to keep a watch on the situation.”

His voice was getting hoarse. He helped himself to a cup of my water, but I didn’t try to stop him.

“When Emerald Ferring showed up with a filmmaker, I met with them, because filmmaker and missing film went together in my mind. After a morning with the pair, I knew, or thought I knew, they had nothing to do with the air force’s missing reel. But then you showed up. Private detective, coming to Kansas, looking for a filmmaker. The army agreed you were worth keeping an eye on.”

“And an ear,” I said spitefully.

“Yes, an ear. I’m not going to apologize for bugging your room. I needed to know what you knew.”

I gave a tight smile. “I would have told you if you’d seemed at all trustworthy.”