Before they set off down the street, Berg grabbed his arm. “Are you sure there’s no way to convince Marnie to leave the keys in the mailbox and get out of there? Right now. Her insistence on staying at the town house isn’t sitting well with the crew. I don’t want to give them any reason to back out of this.”

“She’s a good friend and a combat-decorated Marine. Completely trustworthy,” said Devin. “All she wants to do is make sure I’m not being put up to something or being forced to do something against my will. I know how that sounds, given the fact that I came to you with this, but she’s not going to let this go. She’s doing what a good friend would do. The harder I try to get her to leave, the less likely she will. She made that clear. You heard the phone call.”

“Yeah. Well, she’s getting in the way,” said Berg, sliding his satchel’s strap over a shoulder.

“She won’t stick around for long. She’ll see everything’s fine with me, and that’ll be it.”

Berg shook his head and started walking, almost mumbling to himself. They got to the corner of Foster Avenue, where Berg stopped. “I need you to remember what we discussed earlier today,” he said. “About doing this my way.”

“I remember,” said Devin. “I simply can’t force Marnie to leave without making her even more suspicious than she already is. She’ll just hang around in her car all night. I know her.”

“That would be even worse,” said Berg, looking somewhat exasperated.

“What?” asked Devin, thinking he might have misspoken.

“Nothing. Let’s go,” he said.

They walked the two blocks to South Glover Avenue, Berg checking his phone every minute or so for texts and immediately assuring Devin that everything was on schedule. They didn’t encounter much foot traffic on the way. A college-age student with a backpack bopping along to whatever music was pumping through his headphones. A thirtysomething-looking couple headed in the opposite direction, probably on their way to a cozy dinner in one of a number of Canton neighborhood restaurants. He’d pictured the streets here to be a little busier, due to the proximity to the waterfront, but it was still early by city standards. Just a little past ten.

South Glover was packed with cars, like every street in the area. He imagined having a dedicated garage or parking space behind your town house in the alley was important if you owned a place here. The parking situation around his mother’s apartment was bad enough, but nothing like this. While they walked down the street, he scanned the vehicles without being obvious.

“Karl. Would it be fair to assume that your friends are already watching the town house?” asked Devin.

“It’s possible,” said Berg. “Why do you ask?”