The question was met with silence. Finally, Windslow said, “I don’t want her or the FBI involved. I’ll explain when you get here. Don’t call her, that’s an order.”

An order? That was something Storm would need to clear up with Windslow. Only Jones gave him orders, not a politician.

Storm went downstairs to claim his rental car. The valet brought him a white Ford Taurus. It was not what spies in movies used, but it was perfect for blending in around Washington and its suburbs. He drove to Constitution Avenue, turned right, crossed the Potomac River, and headed north on the George Washington Parkway until he reached the Capital Beltway, a major highway that encircled the city. Exiting west onto the beltway, he went farther into Virginia. It took him another ten minutes to reach Great Falls, a heavily wooded, rolling suburb dotted with multimillion-dollar Colonial estates. He assumed he was being tracked electronically-if not by the CIA then by the FBI. There was probably a bug planted somewhere in the Taurus, or they were using the cell phone that Jones had given him. At this stage, he didn’t care.

Senator Windslow’s driveway was barred by an ornate, monogrammed iron gate. Storm pushed a button on a speaker mounted at the driveway entrance, and when the gates swung open, he drove along a circular driveway bordered by a carefully manicured lawn. An older black maid answered the front door and escorted Storm into the grand foyer, which had an imported Italian marble floor and a massive Versailles chandelier made of crystal and oxidized brass. Rising directly in front of him was an elaborate double staircase. A portrait was hung next to the first step on each side. One painting was of Senator Windslow and the other was of Gloria Windslow. Because each painting was hanging next to the first step, it gave the impression that the senator used one flight of stairs and his wife the other. The artist, Storm noted, had been shrewd enough to recognize that his patrons placed a higher value on flattery than realism. Both of the Windslows looked like British royalty.