It was not for the first time when Camshron had been called in Mr. Fernsby's desk since he had been handed this case. Mr. Fernsby was sitting in his chair with his eyes fixed on The Washington Post like he ruled the world. (For this case he ruled everyone and he-himself was ruled by the Director of CIA.)

"CIA has not concluded anything on Haq's murder. Last day director of CIA said Mike was not a culprit. He doesn’t think sharing our opinion to media in this press conference is acceptable…" he read the article aloud to make Camshron listen those heavy words.

"Sir, Bob. It's him."

"Who's him?"

"I don’t know yet…but we will know."

"When? When he will be gone like he had come?" Mr. Fernsby banged the newspaper on the wooden desk. "You have any option?"

"Well, not a very good one."

"WHAT?"

"Sir, you know 4th July's event in DC?"

"Everyone knows about it."

"Why was president absent there? Was there any security error by Norton?"

"You still think Norton is in all this? Can he try to kill president?"

"Misunderstanding, all it is. I mean to say just look at Haq's autopsy reports. He was starving, isn’t it? Maybe he didn’t eat anything because he was depressed by something. I don’t think there is some more reason for a rich fellow to be hungry unless he was busy."

"Look Nathan," it was the first time when he called Camshron by his first name, "you know that no records are available which answer why or where Haq had been before his murder. Culprit has erased everything."

"Is it Bob, who comes from nowhere in this matter, so much clever that he can erase all of his official records?"

"He might have conspired. First, second, third,…person. Yes. Process of handling takes place in high profile case like this."

"Any big name has appeared in all this as 1st, 2nd, 3rd person?" it was a critical question from Camshron.

"Colonel Norton." Mr. Fernsby raised his eyebrows. "But he must not be in all this. Perhaps he is trapped by someone."

"Any more people in ascending order as per their governmental power or post?"

"Tell me what you are thinking right now." said Mr. Fernsby, lighting his cigarette for the first time in his duty.

"Something is missing."

"As I guessed." puffing smoke out.

"And I think the missing part is gap between us and this Bob."

"What if the gap doesn’t exist?"

"Then it would be very interesting scenario."

"I can't understand you Camshron. We are after Bob and you are after Haq."

Camshron was in the mood of giving philosophical reasons instead of logics and was interpreting GAP. Only Camshron knew what he was thinking about, and he was never going to share it with anyone.

"Are you confident you are on the right track?"

"Leave it to me sir." Camshron remembered about someone, "How is Lorgé doing?"

"He is still here like a mouse and won't be departing until you catch Bob. He's having fun with our cops here."

"I reckon we have had enough data from Mike."

"You reminded something Camshron."

"What?"

"Mike has no lawyer and despite of his mental condition he would be shoved in jail for minimum fifty years."

"How sad is it?"

"He hasn't even married." said Mr. Fernsby from the point of nowhere.

"Let him marry female jailers."

Mr. Fernsby smiled and pressed the cigarette in the ashtray. It looked like Mr. Fernsby was not a serious man now.

He looked at Camshron and left the room.