Jesse smiled. “Bradshaw might stand up to Congress, the FBI, U.S. Marshals, and even the White House, but I don’t know if he’d cross Ethel. If there’s any doubt, the easiest thing is for me not to raise the question of a backup drive until Ethel returns.”

Tracy nodded her agreement. “Are you going to class?”

“No. I’ll skip today. Since Ethel’s not here, and the other roomers are out, I told her I’d stay and keep an eye on things. Be available if the police need to come back for any reason.”

“I’m worried about you, Jesse. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

He felt the revolver pressing against his back. “I’ll be fine. You’re the one I’m worried about. You know how many Americans are run down while crossing the London streets because they looked the wrong way?”

She laughed for the first time. “They stencil ‘Look Right’ on the curbs at the intersections. I make it a habit of looking both ways, just to be sure.”

They chatted another thirty minutes about Tracy’s classes and what they would do when she came back for her holiday break. He promised to show her around Washington. They rang off blowing kisses to each other across the ocean.

He stood up from the desk and stretched. The hollow feeling in his stomach reminded him he’d not eaten since the previous night. He’d rummage through Ethel’s kitchen for the makings of a sandwich or at least a bowl of cold cereal. He walked down the hall to the back stairs to the kitchen and halted at Finch’s door. Tracy’s point about a backup drive lingered. What if it were here instead of in Richmond? If the data had something to do with Finch’s protective assignments, then it made sense he’d want to back up that information before heading home.

Even though Ethel and the police had searched the room, Jesse wanted to see for himself. No crime-scene tape stretched across the doorway; no adhesive sticker sealed the jamb. He simply turned the knob and walked in.

The room no longer bore resemblance to the one occupied by Jonathan Finch. Sheets and a blanket lay strewn across the foot of the exposed mattress. The box spring was askew as if lifted up and then allowed to drop without being properly aligned with the frame. Dresser drawers hung partially open. The door to the armoire stood ajar, and Jesse could see some of the shirts and pants had slipped from their hangers.