Clever son of a bitch, aren't you? Katz thought, letting go of his mustache. Degree in psychology, maybe more likely self-taught. Cops were pretty good at reading people. Reading me, even! "Trouble at home for a married person generally means a troubled marriage." Katz said slowly. "No, there has been no such comment."

"You're sure?"

"Quite sure."

"Okay, thank you for your time, Dr Katz. Sorry to have bothered you." He handed over a card. "If you hear anything like that, I'd appreciate it if you called me."

"What gives?" Katz asked. "If you want my cooperation, I want an answer. I don't spy on people for the fun of it."

"Doctor, her husband holds a very high and very sensitive government position. We routinely keep an eye on such people for reasons of national security. You do the same thing, even if you don't think much about it. If a surgeon shows up with liquor on his breath, for example, you take note of it and you take action, correct?"

"That doesn't happen here, ever," Katz assured him.

"But you would take note of such a thing if it did happen."

"You bet we would."

"Glad to hear it. As you know, John Ryan has access to all sorts of highly sensitive information. Were we not to keep an eye on such people, we would be irresponsible. We've - this is a highly sensitive matter, Dr Katz."

"I understand that."

"We have indications that her husband might be acting irregularly. We have to check that out. Understand? We have to."

"Okay."

"That's all we ask."

"Very well."

"Thank you for your cooperation, sir." The investigator shook hands and left.

Katz managed not to flush until the man was gone. He didn't really know Jack all that well. They'd met at parties perhaps five or six times, traded a few jokes, talked about baseball or the weather or maybe international relations. Jack had never begged off on an answer, had never said I can't discuss that or anything.

Pleasant enough guy, Bernie thought. A good father by all accounts. But he didn't know the man at all.

Katz did, however, know Cathy as well as he knew any other doctor. She was a thoroughly wonderful person. If one of his kids should ever need eye surgery, she was one of the three people in the world whom he would trust to do the fix, and that was the highest compliment he could pay to anyone. She'd backed him up on cases and procedures, and he'd backed her up. When one needed advice, it was the other who got asked. They were friends, and associates. If they'd ever decided to leave the Hopkins/Wilmer faculty, they would have set up an office together, because a medical partnership is even harder to maintain than a good marriage. He might have married her, Katz thought, if he'd had the chance. She would have been an easy girl to love. She had to be a good mother. She drew a disproportionate number of kids as patients because in some cases the surgeon needed small hands, and hers were small, dainty, and supremely skillful. She lavished attention on her little patients. The floor nurses loved her for it. Everyone loved her, as a matter of fact. Her surgical team was extremely loyal to her. They didn't come any better than Cathy.