Marten's thoughts went back to Caroline. She had been the wife of a well-respected congressman who had become an increasingly popular figure in Washington and one who just happened to have been a close boyhood friend of the president, and the sudden, tragic deaths of both her husband and son had seen the political community embrace her with everything it had. It made him wonder why she would think "something had been done to her." Why she would think she had deliberately been injected with a disease that would kill her.

Methodically Marten tried to assess her mental state over the last two days of her life. In particular he thought of the second instance when she had been awake. That time she'd taken hold of his hand and looked into his eyes.

"Nicholas," she'd said weakly. "I-" Her mouth had been dry and her breathing labored. Just speaking took enormous effort. "I was to… have… been… on that plane with… my husband and my… son. There was a… last-minute change… of plans… and I… came back to… Washington a… day… earlier." She had stared at him intently. "They… murdered my… husband and… son… and now they have… killed… me."

"Who are you talking about? Who is 'they'?" he'd pressed gently, trying to get something more tangible from her.