ISITING HOURS WERE OVER. But Robie’s repeated raps on the glass front door brought an attendant. He flashed his badge and was allowed in.

“I need to see Elizabeth Van Beuren,” he said. “And I need to see her now.”

“That’s not possible,” said the attendant, a woman in her thirties with short blonde hair.

“She hasn’t been transferred out of hospice, has she?” asked Robie.

“No.”

“What, then?”

The attendant was about to say something when the nurse Robie had spoken to before came forward.

“So you’re back?” she asked. She was clearly not pleased.

“Where is Elizabeth Van Beuren? I need to see her.”

“She can’t see you.”

“That’s what she said. But why?” asked Robie, his gaze digging into the nurse’s features.

“Because Ms. Van Beuren passed about three hours ago.”

“What happened?”

“The ventilator tube was removed. She passed peacefully an hour later.”

“Who ordered the tube removed?”

“Her doctor.” ’

“But why? Wouldn’t he have to get permission from her family?”

“I really can’t speak to that.”

“Well, who can speak to it?”

“Her doctor, I suppose.”

“I’ll need his name and number, right now.”

Robie called and spoke with the doctor. The physician was reluctant to discuss the matter with Robie until Robie said, “I’m a federal agent. Something is going on here we’re trying to figure out. The only common denominator is Elizabeth Van Beuren. Can you tell me anything? It’s vital or else I wouldn’t be asking.”

The doctor said, “I would not have removed the tube without the family requesting it.”

“Who requested it?”

The doctor paused, then said, “Mr. Van Beuren had the medical power of attorney.”

“So he told you to remove it. Why the change of heart?”

“I have no idea. I just did what he asked us to do.”

“Was it by phone or did he come here in person?”

“By phone.”

“Pretty strange that he didn’t want to be here when his wife died,” said Robie.

“Quite frankly, Agent Robie, I thought the same thing. Maybe he had something more important to do, although for the life of me I can’t imagine what that might be.”

“Do you know where he works?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Ever seen him in person?”

“Yes, numerous times. He seemed like a perfectly normal person. He was deeply devoted to his wife. He was intimately involved in her care. I liked him.”

“But not devoted enough to be with her at the end?”

“Again, I can’t explain that.”

Robie clicked off and looked at the nurse. “Is the body still here?”

“No, the people from the funeral home already picked it up.”

“And her husband never came in? Does her daughter know?”

“I have no idea. I would assume Mr. Van Beuren has contacted her. He didn’t ask us to do so, and thus we couldn’t make that sort of communication.”

Robie called Vance but still got voice mail. He next called Blue Man, but the man didn’t answer either.

Robie raced down the hall to Van Beuren’s room. He pushed open the door and saw the empty bed. He drew nearer, picked up the photo, and looked at George Van Beuren. Short hair, muscular physique. Robie wondered if he was maybe military or former military.

The nurse had followed him down the hall and was standing in the hallway.

“Is this really necessary?” she asked.

“Yeah, it really is.” He whirled around. “George Van Beuren. You said you’ve seen him. Was he ever wearing a uniform?”

“A uniform?”

“Yeah, like military or something?”

“No, not that I ever saw. He was just dressed normally.” She took a step forward. “We need to collect Mrs. Van Beuren’s personal effects and send them along home.”

“I’ll need that home address.”

“We can’t give out that sort of information.”

Robie took a long stride until he was within a couple inches of her.

“I don’t like playing the asshole, but in this case I’m going to. This is a case of national security. And if you have information that might be able to stop an attack against this country and you don’t provide it to a federal officer who has requested it, you’re going to prison, for a very long time.”

The woman gasped, then said, “Follow me.”

A minute later Robie was flying down the road in his car.