"So I'm looking for Russians. There might be one or two of them in Boston."

"Sorry. If we had a name, we'd give it to you."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"We would," I interjected. "Look, both of us have respect for what you do. Both of us have been threatened and almost killed. Trust me when I say that I'm scared shitless. If there was anything else we could give you, we would, but most of what we have relates to our families. For every ten pounds of crap we shovel through, we find one nugget, and then maybe we find another. But the problem is, they don't seem to be related. We've given you all the nuggets we can. Our families are interconnected in so many ways, and yet, things still don't make sense. And believe me, if they don't make sense to us, they certainly won't to you. If we find a pattern, we'll let you know immediately."

Marsh was silent. He finally said, "What about Guidry?"

"He's caught up in it too," said Sabrina. "He's a crook. No doubt about that. But we think he bit off more than he could chew and has run into someone even more crooked. We think he's on the run."

More silence, then, "So what's in Brazil?"

"We don't know."

"That's no answer."

"It's the best we can give you," I said. "Honestly, we don't know."

"Why do I get the feeling you people are fucking me over?" He sighed, started to say something, then abruptly hung up.

"That went well," I said.

"I feel bad for him," said Sabrina. "He's got so little to work with. He's treading water. He knows that we are holding back, but he thinks we are holding back a lot more than we are. Maybe after this trip we'll have something substantial for him."

*****

Two hours later we were back in East Boston. We both thought it prudent to avoid the Westin for now, at least until we could figure out how to gather her belongings without attracting a horde. As we entered the outer front door, Mo opened her door and greeted us. Sabrina introduced herself and thanked Mo for running interference for us in the hotel.

"Hey, that was my fun for the day. Took those guys ten minutes before they could move again."

She invited us in. Her apartment amazed me every time I saw it. It was always a mess. It wasn't dirty, by any means, but it was messy. There were piles of clean laundry that hadn't been put away, books and magazines piled high on bookshelves, and stacks of artwork given to her by her students. Knowing how precise Mo was in her martial arts and how perfectly groomed she always was, it just didn't seem to fit. She once caught me looking around and stated simply, "Priorities." I guess clutter was very low on her priority list.

We brought her up to date on our adventures. Impressed at first, her mood changed when we told her of our plans to travel to Brazil.