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not in our line of work. A long time ago we spent a little time together in ’Nam, but now he’s a fisherman. What brings you here, Kate?”
    â€œI need to talk with you in private.”
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œSomething’s come up.”
    â€œRabbit ears, by any chance?” I asked.
    She looked at me again, then turned back to Joe. “I don’t know this guy. Are you sure you do?”
    â€œI know him,” said Joe. “Now, Kate, speak up. You can tell J.W. anything you can tell me.”
    She allowed herself a thin smile. “I’ll have to shoot him afterwards, according to the rules.”
    â€œObscenity the rules. Besides, you tried that once and it didn’t work.”
    â€œOnly because of you. You’re sure about him?”
    â€œWas Kate part of the trade mission?” I asked Joe.
    He nodded and she frowned slightly.
    â€œYes,” he said. “Is that why you’re up here?” he asked her.
    â€œThe less he knows, the better for everyone,” said stubborn Kate. “He can’t tell anyone what he doesn’t know, and we’ll all be safer, including him.”
    â€œMaybe, maybe not,” said Joe. “He didn’t tell you anything but you almost shot him anyway, remember?”
    â€œHe was lying,” said Kate.
    â€œBut you didn’t know that.”
    The fencing made me impatient. “I know about the Easter Bunny,” I said to Kate. “I think you must be the other living member of the trade mission. I think you’re here because you think it’s dangerous to be at home, wherever that may be, and because you want to hook up with Joe in a common front. How did you know where he lives?”
    â€œI told you that some people know,” said Joe. “Kate is one of them.”
    â€œYou trust her.”
    He shrugged his wide shoulders. “Even in our business you have to trust some people.”
    I’d have thought that just the opposite would be the general rule; that in the gray and black ops business you’d be better off trusting no one. Or at least not trusting anyone completely.
    Still, Kate hesitated.
    I could hear the irritation in my voice when Isaid, “Joe, if your pal here won’t talk with me around and if you think she has anything important to say, I’ll be on my way. My car is right out there in front of the house.”
    â€œStay,” said Joe. “Well, Kate, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
    Kate allowed herself a last moment of hesitation, then nodded stiffly. “All right. I don’t like it, but maybe you know what you’re doing.”
    â€œLet’s go inside, then,” said Joe. “We can chat over a beer, like the old friends we are.”
    â€œFine,” I said. I saw my wallet and pocketknife lying on the grass a few feet away and retrieved them. “I’ll go check the driveway to see if we have any other visitors, then meet you inside.”

  5 
    The beer was actually Ipswich Ale, a brew made north of Boston and favored by Begay. By me, too. There is no bad beer.
    We sat in Joe’s small living room in front of his fireplace, where kindling and logs had been laid but not lit.
    I put Kate’s pistol on the coffee table in front of me. She looked at it thoughtfully, then sat down across the table from me.
    Now that I could study her when she wasn’t aiming that pistol at me, I confirmed that she was indeed a very attractive woman. Midthirties, I guessed, and surely Eurasian. Her up-country fall clothing was formfitting and her boots were good for pavement or forest path. She didn’t have a purse, but instead wore a winter coat with pockets aplenty in which she apparently carried her essential gear. Very practical. I wondered if there was a backup pistol somewhere in those clothes.
    When we each had a glass in our hands, Joe said, “First, I’d better introduce you two. J.W., this is