“Right. The man was complaining that Kerensky was to be allowed a seat at the convention, though Russia is no longer an ally and his party no longer in power.” Hall moved three steps closer. “More, we intercepted a telegram for him some ten or so days ago, ordering him to desist following you. It came from Paris.”

Zivon frowned. “But I have seen him just two days ago.”

The admiral grinned. “The instructions may have been misdelivered. I plan to bring him in for questioning soon and would prefer to apprehend him while he’s about this questionable business rather than at work or the pub. I will advise you on the day this is planned so you can lead him to the place where I will have people waiting.”

“Of course. Thank you.” It wasn’t exactly a full statement of trust, but it was something, wasn’t it, to be brought in on this plan?

Hall cleared his throat. “The fact that he is connected to the socialists, who are clearly concerned with you, lends credence to all you’ve told me. But then there’s this.” He reached into his overcoat and pulled out a manila envelope.

Regarding it much as he would a serpent, Zivon reached for it carefully, bracing himself for whatever strike might come upon opening it.

His breath balled up in his chest when he pulled out the photograph. Him and Evgeni, both in uniform. The one taken at Christmas, the last time they were both home. He didn’t know why the image would alarm the admiral, but he did know what it meant for him. “This—this is from my album. The one I lost—the one I had those intercepted messages stored in.”

Hall didn’t seem quite so excited. “It could be another print.”

“No. No, the corner has the same fold. And see, on the back is my handwriting, with the date.” But when he flipped it over, his words died on his tongue. His wasn’t the only handwriting. More words were scrawled in a feminine hand. In English.

. . . by the company . . .

He frowned. “What is this?”

“That would be the question. We received another photograph that had ‘You will know a man . . .’ on the back. Combined with this, I expect a third one to arrive finishing out the phrase. Probably ‘You will know a man by the company he keeps.’”

And why would his brother be bad company? Zivon lowered the image, shaking his head. “I do not understand. Have your people in Paris had any luck searching for him yet? Evgeni?”

“We found a hospital that had treated him after the train accident.” He said it so matter-of-factly, as if it were no great thing that he’d discovered this and then not mentioned it until now. “They said he was stable but not well when he left. We have found no evidence of him since. Aside from . . .”