“Oh, Skipper, you’re a lucky man.”

Duncan gave his wife a quick, nervous glance and then took a deep breath, rising to his full height. “Maureen, I have never—”

“Just kidding, Skipper.” Condley rose and took the general’s hand as the two women laughed merrily. “This is Maria. We were married once. So stay away from my stuff.”

“Hi, Maria, sorry you ended up with this underachieving troll, however temporarily.” Duncan crushed Condley’s palm in his larger grasp, then slapped him on a shoulder. “You little shit, you’re lucky you’re not dead.”

“I’m not pulling you away from any important golf games, am I?”

“All my golf games are important.” Duncan laughed, settling his large, muscular frame into the fourth chair at the table. He was carrying a sealed manila envelope, and now he put it on the table as Maureen poured him a glass of iced tea. “I’ve been looking for you, actually. So let’s call this a summoning of the minds from outer space.”

“That’s where you’d have to find me. I’m pretty elusive these days. They started up a Dick Tracy watch in my neighborhood. Whenever a polyester suit comes within a block of my apartment an alarm goes off.”

“Agent Combs told me you were being uncooperative. That’s why I sent you a brain wave.” Duncan fingered the manila envelope tentatively. “How’d it go with that skull you brought back? That was a true Brandon Condley moment, paying five thousand bucks to rent a dead head from a bunch of mountain tribesmen. It even made the Cinc Pac staff briefings.”

“Don’t blow my cover, General! But if Cinc Pac knows about it, maybe you can get me reimbursed.”

“Yeah, and what account do they use to reimburse you for renting skulls?” The general chuckled some more, shaking his head from side to side. “Anyway, was it Pepper?”

“I know it’s him,” said Condley, feeling the hopeless anger surge again. “But Professor Muir says there’s no way to prove it.”

“He’s probably right.” Duncan drained his tea in large gulps, then set the glass back onto the table, where Maureen automatically refilled it. “We never got a positive ID on him before. Even with eyewitnesses it might be impossible to walk the cat back thirty years. Unless we can find someone who actually knew him and can testify that he was indeed the guy.”

“So you found somebody who can do that?”

“I’ve been following something,” said Duncan quietly. He drained the second glass of iced tea and then nodded to Maureen. “Will you ladies excuse us for a few minutes?”

Maureen nodded back, accustomed to the necessity of being excluded from conversations that contained classified information. She stood, smiling to Maria and gesturing toward the house. “How’d you like to see my, ah . . . oh, I don’t know, my—”

“Kitchen?” said Maria helpfully, playfully joining the intrigue.