“By all accounts,” said Joseph Van Dorn, “Harry Frost was shot twice by you and three times by poor Archie. He’s got more lead in him than a tinsmith.”

“Not enough to kill him.”

“We’ve not seen hide nor hair of him. No hospital has heard of him. No doctor has reported treating a broken jaw accompanied by unexplained gunshot wounds.”

“Outlaw doctors charge extra not to report gunshot wounds.”

“Nor have we received proof of any sightings by the public.”

“We received numerous tips,” said Bell.

“None panned out.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s dead.”

“At least he’s out of commission.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” said Isaac Bell.

Joseph Van Dorn smacked a strong hand on his desk. “Now, listen to me, Isaac. We’ve been down this road repeatedly. I would love that Harry Frost were not dead. It would be good for business. Preston Whiteway would continue paying a fortune for cross-country protection of our Sweetheart of the Air. Happily, he’s willing to pay us to find Frost’s corpse. But I cannot in good conscience continue to bill him for a dozen agents around the clock.”

“There is no corpse,” Bell replied.

The boss asked, “What evidence do you have that he is not dead?”

Bell jumped up and paced long-leggedly around the Hotel Knickerbocker suite that Van Dorn commandeered for his private office on the occasions he was in New York. “Sir,” he addressed him formally, “you have been a detective longer than I.”

“A lot longer.”

“As such, you know that a so-called hunch by an experienced investigator is bedded in reality. A hunch does not come from nothing.”

“Next you’ll be defending sixth senses,” Van Dorn retorted.

“I don’t have to defend sixth senses,” Bell shot back, “because you know better than I, from your long experience, that sixth senses are the same as hunches. Both are inspired by observations of things and events that we’re not yet aware we have seen.”

“Do you have any idea what you observed that provokes your hunch?”

“Sarcasm is the boss’s privilege, sir,” Bell answered. “Perhaps I observed how agilely Frost carried himself when he ran, sir. Or that shock registered on his face only when Archie broke his jaw, sir. Not when we shot him, sir.”

“Will you please stop calling me sir?”

“Yes, sir,” Bell grinned.

“You’re darned chipper today.”

“I am so relieved that Archie has a fighting chance. Dr. Nuland-Novicki said the most important thing was getting through the first twenty-four hours, and he has.”

“When can I visit him?” asked Van Dorn.

“Not yet. Lillian’s the only one they’ll allow in his room. Even Archie’s mother is cooling her heels in the hallway. The other reason I’m chipper is, Marion arrives any day from San Francisco. She’s hired on with Whiteway to take moving pictures of the race.”