The store owner had a habit of turning everything Leo said into a question and Leo was unsure how to respond. The man addressed Nara:

—You’re who? His translator?

—I’m his friend.

—What do the two of you want?

Leo said to Nara in Dari:

—I want to know how Jesse Austin died, the truth, not what was printed in the papers.

Nara translated. Leo watched the store owner’s reaction. He shook his head, waving at the door.

—I don’t know anything. Now get out. I’m serious. Don’t bother me again. This is a store. If you want to buy something…

Before the store owner could return to the back room, Leo took a chance, calling out:

—Your father knew Jesse Austin.

The store owner turned sharply, staring at Leo accusingly, suddenly angry.

—How do you know my father? What are you doing dragging him into this? You better have a good answer.

Leo replied through Nara:

—Your father met with Jesse Austin the day he was shot. He brought a young Russian girl to his apartment. The two men argued.

She translated. The store owner was stunned. Recovering some of his composure he said:

—What do you want?

Leo sensed he was making inroads and pushed home his advantage.

—The papers claimed a Russian woman shot Jesse Austin. The papers claim the Russian woman was called Raisa Demidova. The papers are wrong. She did not kill him. That is a lie.

Leo took a chance.

—Your father knew it was a lie.

The store owner listened to the translation before turning to Leo.

—And how do you figure this?

Leo had memorized the English.

—Raisa was my wife.

Harlem

Bradhurst - 8th Avenue & West 139th Street

Nelson’s Restaurant - Same Day

The man referred to as number 111 by Elena in her journal was Tom Fluker, now dead; his son William ran the hardware store, as Leo had correctly guessed. Once a degree of trust had been established, William was prepared to recollect events from the time of Jesse Austin’s death. He recounted his father talking about Austin, and how Tom had been furious with him for bringing their community under scrutiny and suspicion.

—Jesse used to make my father mad. He called him a troublemaker. But the night Jesse was shot, my father didn’t sahe had it coming, or anything like that. He did something I never expected him to. He cried. I remember thinking it was strange that he never had a nice word to say about Jesse and then he cried when the man was shot. I was a young boy and it seemed like a contradiction at the time.