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McGuire didn't reply for a moment, then he said, mockingly solemn, "If you would be interested in the opinion of a lowly but old, balding, and wise Secret Service agent, there is something rotten in the state of Denmark. I just wish to hell I knew what it is."

"Me, too, Tom."

"What else can I do for you?"

"Two things. Ask Dick Miller to take my Officer's Model.45-which is cleverly concealed behind the books on the bookshelf behind my bed-and put it and enough summer clothes for a couple of days in Mississippi into one of the carry-on bags in the closet and somehow get it down to me in Mississippi."

"I'll get it for you, Charley. Joel and I are going down there on Air Force One with the boss."

"Thanks."

"Anything else?"

"I asked my cousin Fernando to bring his airplane to Keesler. I'm not sure they'll let him land there. Can you fix it?"

"I don't think it'll be a problem. If there is, I'll call him and tell him where to take it."

"Thanks again."

"Charley, would you take some straight advice from the old Irishman?"

"I'm all ears for anything you have to say."

"One scenario that came to my mind is that we're dealing with a lunatic or lunatics-not necessarily rag-heads; maybe even American-who get off by whacking important people. Masterson qualified as a diplomat and as Jack the Stack. That may explain both why they kidnapped the wife and why they didn't kill her. They just used her to get to him."

Castillo grunted.

"And it may explain why they tried to whack you. The President's agent is in the same league as a diplomat. Maybe even more important. How much of a secret is that down there?"

"Somebody tipped the New York Times that there is a Presidential Agent. And some other members of the press. I don't think my name came out."

"Well, that might explain the ambush. Do you know who had the big mouth?"

"I've got my suspicions."

"Have you got a name?"

"I'm not sure about this, Tom."

"When people are trying to whack you, Charley, an overdose of decency can be lethal."

"There's an FBI agent down here who I think made me."

"Made you how?"

"Do you think-despite the President personally ordering the director to lay off Pevsner-that they still have a 'locate but do not detain' out on me?"

"It would be stupid of them, but it wouldn't surprise me. They really want Kennedy."

"This guy's name is Yung. He's attached to the embassy in Montevideo, supposedly working on money laundering."

"Supposedly?"

"I ran into Howard Kennedy-"

"He's down there?" McGuire interrupted. His surprise was evident in his voice.

"He was."

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