The Broker

He warned them of tomorrow's story in the Post, and explained the motives behind it. It was important for him to be seen in Washington, and in the most visible way possible. It would buy him some time, confuse everyone who might still be looking for him. It would create a splash, and be talked about for days, long after he was gone.

Lisa wanted answers as to how much danger he was in, and Joel confessed that he wasn't sure. He would drop out for a while, move around, always being careful. He'd learned a lot in the past two months.

"I'll be back in a few weeks," he said. "And I'll drop in from time to time. Hopefully, after a few years things will be safer."

"Where are you going now?" Neal asked.

"I'm taking the train to Philly, then I'll catch a flight to Oakland. I would like to visit my mother. It would be nice if you'd drop her a card. I'll take my time, eventually end up somewhere in Europe."

"Which passport will you use?"

"Not the ones I got yesterday."

"What?"

"I'm not about to allow the CIA to monitor my movements. Barring an emergency, I'll never use them."

"So how do you travel?"

"I have another passport. A friend loaned it to me."

Neal gave him a look of suspicion, as if he knew what "friend" meant. Lisa missed it, though, and little Carrie picked that moment to relieve herself. Joel was quick to hand her to her mother.

While Lisa was in the bathroom changing the diaper, Joel lowered his voice and said, "Three things. First, get a security firm to sweep your home, office, and cars. You might be surprised. It'll cost about ten grand, and it must be done. Second, I'd like for you to locate an assisted-living place somewhere close to here. My mother, your grandmother, is stuck out there in Oakland with no one to check on her. A good place will cost three to four thousand a month."

"I take it you have the money."

"Third, yes, I have the money. It's in an account here at Maryland Trust. You're listed as one of the OAvners. Withdraw twenty-five thousand to cover the expenses you've incurred so far, and keep the rest close by." ''I don't need that much."

"Well, spend some, okay? Loosen up a little. Take the girl to Disney World."

"How will we correspond?"

"For now, e-mail, the Grinch routine. I'm quite the hacker, you know."

"How safe are you, Dad?"

"The worst is over."

Lisa was back with Carrie, who wanted to return to the bouncing knee. Joel held her for as long as he could.

Father and son entered Union Station together while Lisa and Carrie waited in the car. The bustle of activity made Joel anxious again; old habits would be hard to break. He pulled a small carry-on bag, loaded with all of his possessions.

He bought a ticket to Philadelphia, and as they slowly made their way to the platform area Neal said, "I really want to know where you're going."

Joel stopped and looked at him. "I'm going back to Bologna."

"There's a friend there, right?"

"Yes."

"Of the female variety?" Oh yes.

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Can't help it, son. It was always my weakness."

"She's Italian?"

"Very much so. She's really special."

"They were all special."

"This one saved my life."

"Does she know you're coming back?"

"I think so."

"Please be careful, Dad."

"I'll see you in a month or so."

They hugged and said goodbye.

Author's Note

My background is law, certainly not satellites or espionage. I'm more terrified of high-tech electronic gadgets today than a year ago. (These books are still written on a thirteen-year-old word processor. When it stutters, as it seems to do more and more, I literally hold my breath. When it finally quits, I'm probably done too.)

It's all fiction, folks. I know very little about spies, electronic surveillance, satellite phones, smartphones, bugs, wires, mikes, and the people who use them. If something in this novel approaches accuracy, it's probably a mistake.

Bologna, however, is very real. I had the great luxury of tossing a dart at a map of the world to find a place to hide Mr. Backman. Almost anywhere would work. But I adore Italy and all things Italian, and I have to confess that I was not blindfolded when I threw the dart.

My research (too severe a word) led me to Bologna, a delightful old city that I immediately came to adore. My friend Luca Patuelli showed me around. He knows all the chefs in Bologna, no small feat, and in the course of our tedious work I put on about ten pounds.

Thanks to Luca, to his friends, and to their warm and magical city. Thanks also to Gene McDade, Mike Moody, and Bert Colley.