The men at the bar looked at her without moving their heads. She opened the door and left. Across the street, a woman was huddled in the entranceway to a boarded-up building. Next to her was a pile of cardboard boxes. Two little feet stuck out of the boxes. The feet of a child? Lancette wondered.

Lancette flagged a taxi.

“Toward Arlington, please,” she said.

“Sure,” the cabbie said. He was a young fellow. Armenian, she guessed. She looked for his license. It wasn’t displayed.

“What you doing up here?” he asked, as the cab cruised toward the illuminated dome of the Capitol.

“Seeing a friend.”

“A friend?”

Questions, she thought.

“The address?”

“Just head straight for a little.” She stared out the window. The cab descended Capitol Hill.

“You know what,” she said. “Forgot something in my office. You can let me off here.”

The cabbie came to a stop by the Rayburn House Office Building. He asked if she wanted him to wait. She said no, handed him six dollars, and stepped out of the cab. She walked toward the entrance to the building. When the taxi pulled away, she changed direction and headed to the Metro.

In the station, she sat on a stone bench. She was alone on the platform. Must have just missed a train, she thought.

16 - Adams Morgan June 26

16

Adams Morgan June 26

Addis rested his head against the tile and felt the water of the shower cascade over him. He had slept in this morning—the first time in years—but he had not slept well. He wanted a week—a month, a year, maybe more—away. Too much bullshit, he thought; not even a grace period for mourning.

He tried to recall an exercise he once had read about in a book on yoga in the bathroom of a girlfriend. Damn, he couldn’t remember which girlfriend, which bathroom, which city, which year. That made him feel even more worn. Enough, he told himself. The exercise. It was trite. Stand straight but not stiff beneath the showerhead, arms at your side. Try to imagine that you are the water, you are merging with the water. Listen to the stream. Feel yourself flowing. Breathe deep through your nose. Use your diaphragm. Close your eyes.

Addis breathed. He exhaled. Nothing. He couldn’t concentrate. Instead, he again thought about seeing M. T. O’Connor and Dan Carey leave the White House together the previous night. They were deep in conversation and did not notice Addis behind them. He had been able to catch only one full sentence. “That can be taken care of,” Carey said. They both got into her car.