I suggested, "You may want to lose that cable crossing sign."

He replied, "We have no choice. We have to let boats know. Anyway, it's on the navigation charts."

"But it could say, 'Freshwater pipe.' You don't have to give the whole thing away."

"True." He glanced at me and was about to say something, but didn't. Maybe he wanted to offer me a job.

The last of the employees disembarked, and we went down the stairs and exited the ferry through the opening in the stern rail. And here we were on the mysterious Island of Plum. It was windy, sunny, and cool on the dock. Ducks waddled around the shoreline, and I was glad to see they didn't have fangs or flashing red eyes or anything.

As I said, the island is shaped like a pork chop-maybe a baby lamb chop-and the cove is at the fat end of the chop, as if someone took a little bite out of the meat, to continue the idiotic comparison.

There was only one boat tied up at the dock, a thirty-something-footer with a cabin, a searchlight, and an inboard motor. The name of this craft was The Prune. Someone had fun naming the ferry and this boat, and I didn't think it was Paul Stevens, whose idea of nautical humor was probably watching hospital ships being torpedoed by U-boats.

I noticed a wooden, weather-faded sign that said, " Plum Island Animal Disease Center." Beyond the sign was a flagpole, and I saw that the American flag was at half-staff here also.

The employees who'd just disembarked boarded a white bus that pulled away, and the ferry blasted its horn, but I didn't see anyone boarding for the trip back to Orient.

Mr. Stevens said, "Please stay here." He strode off, then stopped to speak to a man dressed in an orange jumpsuit.

There was a weird feel to this place-people in orange jumpsuits, blue uniforms, white buses, and all this "stay here" and "stay together" crap. I mean, here I was on a restricted island with this blond SS look-alike, an armed helicopter circling around, armed guards all over the place, and I'm feeling like I somehow stepped into a James Bond movie, except that this place is real. I said to Max, "When do we meet Dr. No?"

Max laughed, and even Beth and Messrs. Nash and Foster smiled.

Beth addressed Max. "Which reminds me, how is it that you never met Paul Stevens?"

Max replied, "Whenever there was a joint meeting of law enforcement agencies, we'd invite the Plum Island security director as a courtesy. None of them ever showed. I spoke to Stevens once on the phone, but never laid eyes on him until this morning."

Ted Nash said to me, "By the way, Detective Corey, I've discovered that you're not a Suffolk County detective."

"I never said I was."

"Oh, come on, fella. You and Chief Maxwell led me and George to believe you were."

Max said, "Detective Corey has been hired by the Town of Southold as a consultant in this case."

"Really?" asked Mr. Nash. He looked at me and said, "You are a New York City homicide detective, wounded in the line of duty on April twelfth. You're currently on convalescent leave."

"Who asked you?"

Mr. Foster, ever the peacemaker, interjected, "We don't care, John. We just want to establish credentials and jurisdictions."

Beth said to Messrs. Nash and Foster, "Okay, then, this is my jurisdiction and my case, and I have no problem with John Corey being here."

"Fine," said Mr. Foster.

Mr. Nash did not second that, leading me to believe he did have a problem, which was also fine.

Beth looked at Ted Nash and demanded, "Now that we know who John Corey works for, who do you work for?"

Nash paused, then said, "CIA."

"Thank you." She looked at George Foster and Ted Nash, and informed them, "If either of you ever visits the crime scene again without signing in, I will notify the DA. You will follow all procedures, just as the rest of us have to, understood?"

They nodded. Of course they didn't mean it.

Paul Stevens returned and said, "The director is not available just yet. I understand from Chief Maxwell that you'd like to see some of the island, so we can drive around now. Please follow-"

"Hold on," I said, pointing to The Prune. "Is that yours?"

"Yes. It's a patrol boat."

"It's not patrolling."

"We have another one out now."

"Is this where the Gordons docked their boat?"

"Yes. All right, please follow-"

"Do you have vehicle patrols around the island?" I asked.

He obviously didn't like being questioned, but he replied, "Yes, we have vehicle patrols around the island." He looked at me and asked impatiently, "Any more questions, Detective?"

"Yes. Is it usual for an employee to use his or her own boat to commute to work?"

He let a second or two go by, then replied, "When the 'Never Leave' policy was strictly enforced, it was prohibited. Now we've relaxed the rules a little, so we sometimes get an employee who takes his or her boat to work. Mostly in the summer."

"Did you authorize the Gordons to commute by boat?"

He replied, "The Gordons were senior staff and conscientious scientists. As long as they practiced good decontamination techniques and observed safety and security regulations and procedures, then I had no real problem with them commuting with their own boat."

"I see." I inquired, "Did it ever occur to you that the Gordons could use their boat to smuggle deadly organisms out of here?"

He considered a second or two, then answered obliquely, "This is a workplace, not a jail. My main focus here is to keep unauthorized people out. We trust our people, but just to be sure, all our employees have gone through background checks by the FBI." Mr. Stevens looked at his watch and said, "We're on a tight schedule. Follow me."

We followed the tightly wound Mr. Stevens to a white mini-bus and boarded. The driver wore the same light blue uniform as the security guards, and in fact, I noticed he wore a holstered pistol.

I sat behind the driver and patted the seat beside me for Beth, but she must have missed my gesture because she sat in the double seat across the aisle from me. Max sat behind me, and Messrs. Nash and Foster sat in separate seats farther back.

Mr. Stevens remained standing and said, "Before we visit the main facility, we'll take a spin around the island so you can get a feel for the place and better appreciate the challenges of securing an island of this size with about ten miles of beach and no fences." He added, "There's never been a breach of security in the history of the island."

I asked Mr. Stevens, "What kind of sidearms am I seeing in the holsters of your guards?"

He replied, "The pistols are Army-issue Colt.45 automatics." He looked around the bus, then asked, "Did I say something interesting?"

Max informed him, "We think the murder weapon was a.45."

Beth said, "I'd like to do an inventory of your weapons, and I'd like to run a ballistics test on each of them."

Paul Stevens didn't reply enthusiastically.

Beth asked, "How many.45 pistols do you have here?"

He said, "Twenty."

Max inquired, "Do you have one on you?"

Stevens patted his jacket and nodded.

Beth asked, "Do you always carry the same piece?"

"No." He added, "I draw one from the Armory every weekday." He looked at Beth and said, "It sounds like I'm being interrogated."

"No," Beth replied, "you're only being asked questions as a friendly witness. If you were being interrogated, you'd know it."

Mr. Nash, behind me, said, "Perhaps we should let Mr. Stevens get on with his agenda. We'll have time to question people later."

Beth said, "Proceed."

Mr. Stevens, still standing, said, "All right. Before we move on, I'll give you my little speech that I give to visiting scientists, dignitaries, and the press." He glanced at his stupid clipboard, then began in a rote tone, " Plum Island comprises 840 acres of mostly forest and some pastureland and a parade ground, which we'll see later. The island is mentioned in the ships' logs of early Dutch and English sailors. The Dutch named the island after the beach plum that grows along the shore-Pruym Eyland in old Dutch, if anyone is interested. The island belonged to the Montauk Indian tribe, and it was bought by a fellow named Samuel Wyllys in 1654 from Chief Wyandanch. Wyllys and other settlers after him used the island to pasture sheep and cattle, which is ironic considering what it is used for now."