Dirk raised his iPhone, snapped a photo of Millie tap-dancing. “Nope. Milo got a call from a ‘friendly’ who works at One Federal Plaza and told him that the FBI agent who took down the terrorist at JFK—Special Agent Sherlock—will be in town for a couple of days about an overlapping case, or whatever, who knows? Milo got through to an FBI bigwig in Washington to see if one of our reporters could meet with her. He sold it by saying what an awesome job the FBI agent did saving the world—you know, the sort of crap he thought the FBI would latch on to. Of course they did, they can always use positive publicity. And of course a nice article with a photo of Agent Sherlock might sell some issues of the Guardian, too. I think Milo assigned Millie to do the article because she dated an FBI agent last year. Didn’t end well, but she probably knows more about them than any of the rest of us.”

Mia felt a stab of envy. She remembered, like most Americans, what Special Agent Sherlock had done. Sherlock—what an amazing name. She said, “If Agent Sherlock ran for mayor, I think she might even get herself elected. Voters would know she’d clean up the streets, keep crime down.”

To everyone’s surprise, Kali the intern said, “I saw a photo of her husband, he’s an FBI agent, too, Agent Dillon Savich. He’s extremely hot. They’ve got a little kid, too. I wonder how it all works.”

Benny gave Kali a long assessing look, slowly smiled, and nodded. Good, maybe he’d ask her out.

Milo, the boss, came striding out of his office, waving his big hands. “Cut out the dancing, Jones, and sit your butt down. I can see you from my office. You look like a spastic kangaroo. Time to hunker down, get your questions together for Agent Sherlock so I can review them. There you are, Briscoe. Did you interview Alex Harrington?”

All the voices died, as did Millie’s dance, but not her indignant, “Kangaroo?”

Milo gave her the stink eye when she executed a rather cute last little skip before sitting down. They hadn’t been all that loud and Milo’s door had been closed, but everyone knew their boss had Spock ears. Mia said, “Yes, I had an initial interview with Harrington already, Milo, and his best buddy, Kent Harper, too. You know he runs the New York office of his family business—”

“Yes, yes, Harper Strategic Services, in the Harper Building on Madison, ugly modern piece of crap, full of itself. Okay, good. Then you’re all set to get up to Boston tonight?”