“Little over four years ago.”

“And that was it? Period? Done?”

“Like I said.”

“And no one has asked you about your ICEMAN report?”

“No one.”

The white man left his seat and passed Lancette and Walters on his way to the men’s room.

“And how did you find me?” she asked.

“Too easily, I have to say. A friend in Security—helped him after his son committed suicide. I asked him about ICEMAN reports. He told me about you. Then I asked Mrs. Novek about you. She really does know everyone. Told her that I was, well, interested in meeting you. You know what she’s like. A wonderful coincidence, she told me. You had an appointment with Wenner that day. She called me when you were finishing the meeting, and I found you in the gift shop.”

“Sounds like quite the coincidence.”

“Coincidence sometimes do happen.”

“I have to tell myself that every day.”

“And another coincidence. Today I was ordered to Burundi. Seems one of our colleagues was found in the embassy communications room naked and delusional. I asked for more details. They told me that the chief of station would brief me on my arrival—tomorrow. Feels like I’m in a bad movie, you know. A cliché. The guy with the clue who …”

The white man passed them as he returned to join his friend. Another pair of men—black and white—entered the bar and sat with the first two.

“Coincidence or not?” Walters asked.

Lancette glanced at the men.

“Time to go,” he said.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“Whatever you think you should. I just had to tell someone. I’m not doing anything more.”

“And if I want to contact you?”

He quickly wrote his number on a napkin and passed it to her.

“They say I’ll be back in a few days. But keep an eye out for that headline: State Department Officials Die in Bujumbura Car Crash.”

He tried to laugh but instead a clicking sound came out of his throat.

“We should leave separately,” he said. “There’s an alley in the back. I checked it out earlier. We’ll get up. I’ll head to the men’s room. You go out the front, like you’re going to wait for me outside the door. If they’re here for us, they’ll wait for me to come out of the bathroom before they move.”

“And then how do I get home?”

“They have cabs up here.”

The two stood, and Walters dropped money on the table.

“Do you have a copy of your memo?” she asked.

But Walters already was heading toward the back.

“I’ll wait out front,” she called after him.