Cohen was sitting at a table, drinking a large glass of beer. He was dressed in his black leather jacket, a blue cashmere scarf and a blue-striped shirt made of expensive cotton. Arrayed before him on the brown wrapping paper that served as a tablecloth were various vegetable dishes that were his munchies: French string beans, a grilled Portobello mushroom, thin spears of asparagus drizzled with butter sauce.

“It’s been a long week,” he said. “I’m babying myself.”

“That’s nice.” I really didn’t want to hear how hard his week had been. I had my own problems.

“When do I start work?” asked Rupert. “I’m sick of being a spy. I want to be a real man, like George Will.”

“We’ll get to the job part later, but I need to ask you about a couple of things that have been bothering me, starting with Abelard. The reason he quit the campaign is that I told him we might run a story about his hospitalization. I’ve been feeling weird about it, and one of the things bugging me is why you told me in the first place. You must have known it would destroy him.”

“I told you because you asked me. You said you wanted information on Abelard, so I went out and found some.”

“Where did you find it? Who told you? How did you know?”

“It wasn’t hard. Abelard used to be a member of the Intelligence Committee. That meant he had been vetted for security, and there was lots of stuff about him floating around. I’m still on the ‘badge table,’ which means I can ask for almost anything in the registry. So I got it. I thought that was what you wanted me to do.”

“It was.” Everything he said sounded reasonable, but it was insufficient cause for the catastrophe that had ensued. “What did you think of Abelard yourself, Rupert? Did you like him?”

“Not much. I thought he was a wuss. Too cozy with the Froggies and the rest of the Europeans. Living in the past. But that’s not why I gave you the goods on him, if that’s what you mean. I’m clean. Just a freelance dirt-disher, like you.”

He drained his beer and belched. “Mmmmm,” he said. “Another of those and I will begin to feel like a human being again. Now, what about my job? When do I get vested in the New York Mirror pension plan?”

“I’m not done. I want to know more about Paris, too. Last time you were too drunk to finish the conversation, so let’s talk now.”

“Fine. At your service. What do you want to know?”

“Why did you come find me? Why did Rubino send you? You said it was all against the rules, so why did you do it? What was so special about me?”