Three days later, on the Tuesday morning, I was ushered through the military section of Stewart International Airport, near Newburgh, New York from the otherwise empty United States Air Force jet as soon as the flight from London touched down. The heat hit me hard as I walked across the blistering tarmac. I hated flying but had succeeded in managing to smoke, which had eased my aversion somewhat when I had requested an audience with Katherine. Jimmy Mercer was waiting inside an air-conditioned red Pontiac saloon.
“Hot enough for you, Harry? Got anything yet? You would tell me if you did, wouldn"t you? I sincerely hope you wouldn"t keep your best friend in the dark.”
“Hardly anything! That"s why I"m here, Jimmy. We need Katherine to open the door wider. Does she know I"m coming?”
“Offici
