“Andy Ross, well I"ll be,” the distinctive New York accent of U.S. Immigration Officer Ethan Tiffen bellowed into the phone when his secretary informed him who was waiting on the line to speak with him. “How are you, old buddy?”
“I"m good, Ethan, thanks. How about you and the lovely Sophie?
“We"re fine, Andy, just fine. But, I"m guessing this isn"t a social call?”
“You guess correctly, Ethan. I"m looking for information about one of your compatriots, and fellow embassy employees.”
“Really? Can I ask why?”
“We"ve got a suspicious death on our hands, a young man found dead in his bed, and his father is one of your cultural attachés.”
“Got a name?”
“Decker.”
“As in Jerome Decker III?”
“You know him?”
“Let"s say I know of him, Andy. You say his son is dead?”
“Murdered, Ethan. Suffoc
