I stepped into the side alley where I’d agreed to meet Jack. He was there, smoking one of his hated American cigarettes, his free hand drumming against the wall. When he saw me, he exhaled a long stream of smoke, then ground out the cigarette and dropped the butt into his pocket.

“You okay?” he said, squinting through the darkness.

“You’re the one I should be asking that. Lose any fingers?”

“None I needed.” His gaze slipped to my hand. “Where’s your gun?”

“I didn’t need it.”

“Nadia…”

“What?”

“You do have the gun, right?”

“Sure.”

“I mean now. On your body. Not back in the hotel room.”

“Would you have taken a gun?”

“Couldn’t. Guards found a gun on me—”

“You know what I mean. If it had been you going to see Gallagher, would you have taken a gun?”

He lifted his hand to his lips, as if forgetting he wasn’t still holding his cigarette. A scowl, then a sharp shake of his head.

“You get anything?” he asked.

“Gallagher went for the deal. He remembered the Fomin hit and he said it was done by a regular of his, someone who just recently retired. A hitman who goes by the name Wilkes.”

For a second, Jack said nothing, then he breathed a long, low, “Fuck.”

“That’s the guy you thought of first when I started rhyming off a profile of the killer. The guy that Evelyn said couldn’t be responsible.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think it could be him?”

Jack paused, gaze emptying as he thought it over. It took about a minute, then he gave a slow nod. “Yeah. Age is right. Haven’t heard much from him lately. Could have retired. He’s good. What’d Evelyn say? Technically adept. So…Gallagher still pissed?”

“At you? Yes. But I told him it was an attention deficit problem, and that helped.”

“Attention…?” A twitch of his lips. “I don’t want to know, do I?”

“Probably not, but it eased you a step out of his bad books.” We started for the sidewalk at the front of the casino. “Though he did warn me about you. Said you’re a bad influence.”

“Am I?”

“Apparently, you’re not a player.”

“There’s a game?”

“Yes, and you’re not playing it.”

“Never was good at games. Too many rules.”

“You seemed darned good at one game, at least. A little card-sharking in your past, I’m guessing?”

“Better a casino than a bank.”

“What’s that I hear? An ethical choice?”

“A safety choice.”

“Bullshit. You get caught robbing a bank and no one’s going to put a bullet in your brain. Is that the sort of thing Gallagher hired—?” I shook my head. “None of my business. Sorry.”

“Yeah, it is your business. Especially if Gallagher’s gonna offer you employment.” He glanced my way. “He did offer, didn’t he?”