Taking her hint, Agent Showers said, “The kidnapping happened three days ago. A white van pulled up at an intersection on the edge of the Georgetown campus where Mr. Dull and Miss Toppers were waiting for a red light to change. It was shortly after fourteen hundred hours. Three men, all wearing ski masks, leaped out of the vehicle. One stayed behind the wheel. The first assailant fired an automatic weapon in the air to scare onlookers. The other two overpowered Matthew and forced him into the van. We found the van abandoned six blocks away.”

“No fingerprints or trace evidence, I assume?” Storm said.

“That’s right. Wiped clean.”

“How about the shell casings left behind?”

“It’s all in my report,” she replied curtly.

“Which she’ll be happy to give you after we are done,” Windslow declared. “I spoke to FBI Director Jackson this morning, and he has instructed Agent Showers to cooperate fully with you. No questions asked. Isn’t that correct?”

“Yes,” Showers said. “I’ve been ordered to help you.”

“Agent Showers doesn’t think bringing you into the investigation is a good idea,” Gloria Windslow said. “My husband and I feel differently.”

“That’s because the FBI hasn’t done a damn thing so far,” Windslow declared.

Storm saw Showers’s jaw muscles tighten. He suspected she was biting down hard to keep her response from slipping out.

“I got a ransom note,” Windslow said, “the day after those bastards snatched him. They demanded a million dollars, which I immediately agreed to pay.” Windslow shot FBI Agent Showers a disgusted look. “Agent Showers here assured me that if I played along with these sons-of-bitches, the Bureau would be able to catch them when they picked up my money.”

“But that’s not what happened,” Gloria Windslow said, cutting in on his account. The two of them made quite a tag team. For not wanting to discuss the case, both seemed eager to do it.