Edge

to get cash. That’s money laundering.”
    “It is?”
    “Yes. That’s my jurisdiction. It’s a federal offense and a serious one. Now, Stu, if you have any information about this Jimmy Sun, I advise you to tell me. Lying to a federal officer’s a crime too. And harboring a suspect could result in an obstruction charge. Those are very serious.”
    “But if no one was hurt and the victim didn’t want to pursue it . . . I mean, what’s the problem?”
    “The victim’s feelings are irrelevant.”
    “That doesn’t make sense.”
    “Well, Stu, let’s say I murder you.” He blinked. “You’re dead. You don’t have any feelings one way or the other. Right?”
    “I guess not. I mean, no.”
    “But that’s still a crime. Or say I’m a thug, okay? I steal your car but you’re afraid of me and don’t want to report it. But there are lots of witnesses who saw me. The police can still arrest me. You don’t testify but other people can. I go to jail.”
    “I didn’t know that.”
    “I’ve got an arrest warrant for Sun.” I tapped my jacket pocket.
    “You do?”
    “There were videos in the Post Boxes Plus store where he picked up the coins he’d bought. With the money from the forged check.”
    “But—”
    “How exactly do you know Jimmy? Be honest, Stu.”
    The young man’s head was down again. “He’s my partner. My lover.”
    “I see. He lives with you?”
    “No. His parents are real traditional. They suspect but they don’t know.”
    “You’d be doing him a favor to have him turn himself in. Homeland Security’s already started a file.”
    “Homeland Security?”
    “The terrorist issue.”
    “Terrorist?” Stu appeared horrified.
    “It’s looking like Sun stole the checkbook as part of an operation by the North Korean government to blackmail the victim—Eric Graham. He works for the Pentagon.”
    “Oh, Jesus. No, no . . .”
    “Is there anything that you’ve seen about Jimmy that would support that?”
    “Of course not. He’s a great guy. He’s sweet. His family’s from South Korea!”
    I smiled. “Well, terrorists can be very charming. There are a lot of operatives from the north in and around Seoul.”
    “He’s not a terrorist,” Stu whispered.
    “Well, that’s for the prosecutor and the courtsto decide. It’s just my job to bring him in. Without hurting him, I hope. But . . .”
    “Oh, Jesus.”
    I leaned forward. “The profile of people like him is that he’s probably very dangerous. We have an assault team active in the area. They were ready to move into the store, if he’d been there. They’re pursuing other leads now.” I glanced at my watch, frowning. “I heard from one team twenty minutes ago. They think they might know where he is. The FBI’s authorized a lethal takedown if he doesn’t surrender immediately.”
    The young man gasped.
    I regarded the sallow face before me. “If you care about him, you should help us out. If it comes down to a fight, he could lose his life. Our tactical teams are trained to expect suicide bombings and other life-threatening behaviors.”
    Stu began to cry, big drops of tears. His voice cracked. “It was all my idea, not Jimmy’s. He was just helping me out. . . . Jesus, call them—those FBI people you were telling me about. Tell them he’s not dangerous.”
    I frowned. “You need to explain yourself.”
    “ I stole the checkbook, I opened the online pay account. It was me, not Jimmy. All he did was pick up the coins at the mailbox store.”
    “I’m not following, I’m afraid.”
    Stu wiped his face. “The man whose checkbook was stolen?”
    “Eric Graham.”
    “He’s . . . he’s my father.”
    “So, you’re Stu Graham. ”
    He nodded. “Oh, I can’t believe how stupid Iwas. I . . . Oh, man, have I fucked this up. Please, call them!”
    “Not until you explain everything.”
    “It’s so stupid!”
    “Tell me, Stu. The sooner we know the truth, the better it’ll be for Jimmy.”
    He dabbed at his eyes. “Father’s kind of . . . he’s pretty tough. He always wanted me to go to his school, Princeton. He was a BMOC. Big Man on Campus, you know? He wanted me to be one too. But I hated it. I fit in here.” His hand lifted outward, meaning presumably DuPont Circle. “This is where I belong. I love Jimmy, our friends. I’m not the rah-rah Ivy League sort. But Father wouldn’t listen.”
    “What’s this have to do with the forgery?”
    “Because I’m a fucking