Ki said, “So what’s the problem? That Gelfland didn’t call his cousin? I haven’t spoken to mine in years.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Musil frowned. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Is there an issue?”

“You try being openly gay in an immigrant Korean family. Then ask me.”

Musil considered that. He had neglected his friendship with Ki and would have to rectify it. But first things first. He wanted to stay on track about the missing sailor.

“Clara Hughes has the key to Gelfland’s home,” he said. “They always exchange calls on holidays and sometimes spend them together. And he was leaving for five months. Why wouldn’t he get in touch with her this time? Even to say goodbye.”

A pause on the line. Then an audible sigh. “All right,” Ki said. “If it’ll make you happy, I’ll do some data mining. Run a search of social media platforms. Maybe the guy had a wild-ass going away party in January and didn’t want his cuz to know. Somebody might’ve tagged him in a pic. You have his photo?”

“No,” Musil said. “For the police, the case was a nonstarter. They didn’t see a need to include one in their file.”

“How about CloudCable?”

“I requested photos of the entire crew, but so far it hasn’t provided them. I’ll try again.”

“Don’t bother,” Ki said. “Gelfland must have a passport image on file. Driver’s license. Something. I’ll dig it up. Give me a few hours.”

Musil was quiet a moment.

“You’re a good friend, and I value you immensely,” he said. “We should have lunch later this week.”

“Not dinner?”

“My wife is visiting her family in Wisconsin. The girls are with me. But if you don’t mind having them along, dinner would be fine.”

Ki cleared his throat. “Uh, that’s OK. Lunch is cool. That Pak buffet down on Fifty-First Street?”

“Yes.”

“A little bit of guilt goes a long way.”

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re on,” Ki said and disconnected.

Musil’s next call was to Clara Hughes at the phone number given in the New Jersey police reports. She answered on the second ring, and he identified himself as an investigator with Net Force.

“Can you please tell me who you’re with again?” she asked.

“Certainly, Ms. Hughes. Net Force. The Department of Internet Security and Law Enforcement.”

“I’m not sure I’ve heard of it...”

“You might recall President Fucillo’s speech in New York. Back in August...”

“Yes. Of course. Now it rings a bell. How could I forget that terrible craziness?” She paused a second. “The funny thing is that your name sounded familiar right away.”