MY PHONE STARTED TO RING just as Molinari appeared near the gate. I stood there and watched him. Seeing me, the phone to my ear, he began to understand. A smile came over his face, a big smile.

I'd never been so nervous in my life. Then we just stood there, maybe fifteen feet apart. He'd stopped walking.

"I'm the emergency," I said into the phone. "I need your help."

At first Molinari smiled, then he caught himself, with that stern deputy director sort of look. "You're lucky. I'm an emer-gency kind of guy."

"I have no life," I said. "I have this very nice dog. And my friends. And this job. And I'm good at it. But I have no life."

"And what is it you want?" Molinari said, stepping closer.

His eyes were twinkling and forgiving. They reflected some kind of joy - cutting through the case, and the con-tinent that divided us - the same thing that was in my

heart.

"You," I said. "I want you. And the jet."

He laughed, and then he stood right in front of me.

"No" - I shook my head - "I just want you. I couldn't let you get on that plane without telling you that. This bicoastal thing, we can try to............