The setting sun sprinkles light across the surface of the two lakes, raising a glow like a thousand phantoms. To Paul Hood, it looked as if someone had turned a bright light on beneath the city. Ahead, the trees in the park and the buildings to the sides were positively iridescent against the deepening blue of the sky.

The air in Hamburg is also different from other cities. It's a curious mix of nature and industry. There's the taste of salt, which is carried from the North Sea by the Elbe; of the fuel and smoke of the countless ships which travel the river; and the countless plants and trees which thrive in the city. It isn't noxious, Hood thought, as in some cities. But it is distinctive.

Hood's reflection on the environment was brief. No sooner had they left the building and began walking toward the park than Hausen began talking.

"What has made this day so strange for you?" Hausen asked.

Hood didn't really want to talk about himself. But he hoped that by doing so he could loosen Hausen's tongue a little. Give and take, take and give. It was a waltz familiar to anyone who had lived and worked in Washington. This just happened to be a little more personal and important than most of those other dances.

Hood said, "While Matt, Bob, and I were waiting for you in the hotel lobby, I thought I saw-- no, I could have sworn I saw a woman I once knew. I ran after her like I was possessed."

"And was it she?" Hausen asked.

"I don't know," Hood said. Just thinking about what had happened made him exasperated all over again. Exasperated that he'd never know if it were Nancy, and exasperated because that woman still had a hold on him. "She got into a cab before I could reach her. But the way she held her head, the way her hair looked and moved-- if it wasn't Nancy, it was her daughter."

"Has she one?"

Hood shrugged but said nothing. Whenever he thought about Nancy Jo, he was upset by the thought that she could very well have a child or a husband, could actually have a life away from him.

So why the hell are you dwelling on it again? he asked himself. Because, he thought, you want to get Hausen to talk.

Hood took a healthy breath and blew it out. His hands were deep in his pockets. His eyes were on the grass. Reluctantly, his mind went back to Los Angeles, nearly twenty years ago.