Mateo knocked on the 102 Suit's door. When the door opened, Joseph Pruist appeared. Benjamin went directly to the television, connected the VCR, extracted the videotape from the video camera, put it in and pressed PLAY.

While they waited the usual delay. Benjamin said.

-Everything came out as requested. We threw him off the road. And Mateo set the car on fire. That seemed the four of Julio.

- Witnesses? - Joseph inquired.

- There was not a soul on the road. We filmed everything like we were tourists. Two other guys arrived in a car and they stopped to look. I have filmed them too.

What Joseph Pruist saw during the following half hour was exciting? Those men had filmed whole time of the fire and the efforts to put it off.

However his reaction was stronger was when the videocamara focuses on the Jeep that stopped behind blue van. Two men were shown, and one of them Joseph knew.

- Seaborn - whispered Joseph - it was you!

- What do you mean? - Asked Mateo

- It is the guy that Arthur Grutt called, waiting to meet with him. I don't know the other one. Does any one of you recognize him?

Mateo and Benjamin shook their heads without looking away from the television.

- I believe so -. Benjamin said -. Hmm. I think I saw him on the television.

- Of Course it is one of those smug guys that work in the White House. - Assured Mateo.

- OH God! Sure, Seaborn quit Gage Whitney to work with Bartlett!

- Shit! . - Screamed Joseph.

The video ended and shut off.

Realizing his hands were sweating, Joseph dried them on his Jean's pants leg. He was an engineer by profession, and he didn't like what had happened that night, but his displeasure was overcome by his greed. He crossed the room to the night table, took an envelope out of the drawer and gives it to Mateo.

-This is the total payment; I know where I can find you if I need something again. Leave tape.

Mateo and Benjamin, they left without saying word.

Joseph went to the mini bar and he served himself a whisky. ' The idiot of a good guy Arthur thought I was playing, that all this was a damned game '- Joseph thought while he lifted the whisky glass and inspected the viscous yellow liquid.

Then he walked to the window whispered into night as if it could not hear him.

- Don't enter into this, Sam Seaborn, or you will die too.

*****************************************************************

Bonnie, Cathy and Ginger looked with sternly to Sam when he sat down slowly behind his desk. He so awful that they could easily mistake him with a beggar. He felt his head heavy with such a tremendous feeling of exhaustion that he could have sworn he had not slept at all. In fact, he spent almost one hour awake since he turned off the light, closed his eyes fell asleep. And he didn't wake up out of his own will; the memories of the previous night woke up him.

Toby walked over to him.

- Either it was been a whole night spree or a violent sexual orgy, to which I was not invited - Toby said approaching Sam's desk - Maybe Josh and you had an orgy and forgot me?

-Anything but that Toby - Sam said weakly.

- You deny it just like Josh.

Toby, we had neither a sexual orgy nor a night party. We were working. - Sam rubbed his eyes trying to suppress a yawn. He drank a cup of coffee and began another, advancing on a third, unless the acid began to eat away at his stomach when he had not offered anything it solid food from the previous day. It seemed to have past one month. He heard Toby came closer and he leaned his hand in Sam's shoulder.

- You're exhausted from something. If I can help you, I have time.

- Thank you Toby.

- Is this something professional or personal?

- Professional

- Does something happen?

Sam shook his head and looked at Toby.

- I hope so! Do you really want to help? You will have to listen to a story, one you could call grotesque.

- Absolutely. I adore the grotesque stories.

It took Sam over 45 minutes to relate the events of the previous night. But when he heard himself speak, it sounded trivial, as if he was playing Cowboys and Indians with Josh the whole night. like a six year-old boy. He didn't have any proof to his theory of the conspiracy. All he had was a mysterious voice on the telephone and a fatal automobile accident at Georgetown that could be a coincidence. Nothing more.

- What do you thing, Toby?

Toby´s reply could turn a gallon of milk sour.

- So you and Josh go to running to Virginia countryside in the death of night in a fruitless search caused by a false phone call - Toby summarized - And for that reason you come to work half - dead. When will the two of you grow up?

- Toby, we don't know if it was a false call, to me it sounded authenticates. I wanted to know who it was that died in the accident. - Sam responded, a little annoying.

- Sam, I don't believe this will take you anywhere, it will be better if you forget this, before you begin to look for conspiracies under each stone while we have real work to do. Stops looking for sinister conspiracies. Do you want to work on the Oil spill? I have on my desk a bill that has more restrictions for Oil tankers. Works on that.

-Toby, at any time have I evidenced depravity or shown any sign of being prone to fantasies?

- No, you have not. Although sometimes you show a little strange behavior, such memorizing the Senate members in alphabetical order, describing interstates routes with luxurious details or, instead of using maps, guide yourself with celestial navigation...- as Toby enumerated, racing his voice. - You are one of the more sensible and pragmatics people I know.

- Then what is the problem?

- Sam, while I listened your crazy story, I felt as if I was speaking with a six year-old boy, that related his adventures in the forest with his best friend. I ´d rather you filled me in on the details of the orgy.

Sam agreed pensively. He wants not to continue the conversation with Toby, as it was turning into a thing of bad humor, although he felt very differently about having brought the bad humor to work.

- Ok Toby, give me the bill on the tankers oil, and we'll return to work.