"JUST THE PLACE" turned out to be a caf?called Catch, down on Vine Street, which was like Union Street back home, filled with trendy restaurants and cutesy boutiques. The mare d' led us to a quiet table way in the back.

Molinari asked if he could handle the wine, ordering a pinot noir from Oregon. He called himself a "closet foodie" and said what he missed most about a normal life was just staying home and puttering around the kitchen.

"Am I supposed to believe that one?" I grinned.

He laughed out loud. "Figured it was worth a try."

When the wine came I held up my glass. "Thank you. For

backing me up today." "Nothing to thank," Molinari said. "I felt you were right." We ordered, then talked about everything but work. He

liked sports - which was all right with me - but also music, history, old movies. I realized that I was laughing and listening, that time was going by pretty smoothly, and that for a few moments all of the horror seemed a million miles away.

Finally, he mentioned an ex-wife and a daughter back in New York.

"I thought all the deputy-level personnel had to have a little woman back home," I said.

"We were married fifteen years, divorced for four. Isabel stayed in New York when I started work in Washington. At first, it was just an assignment. Anyway" - he smiled wist-fully - "like many things, I would do it differently if I could. How about you, Lindsay?"

"I was married once," I said. Then I found myself telling Molinari "my story." H............