“That’s a lot of questions. I’ll take them one at a time. I brought you here for the reason I told you: I can keep you safe here. It’s totally private, and you have to admit that it wouldn’t be easy for anyone to storm this house.” He paused. “Who is Sandrino? He’s a bit harder to explain.” He pulled out his phone to show her the photo of a silver-haired man in his late fifties or early sixties who was smiling sardonically up at her. “This is Antonio Sandrino. I met him in Hell’s Kitchen when I was fourteen. I was playing cards in the back room of a bar and doing damn well for myself. Of course, I got beat up pretty frequently when one of the other players thought I was doing too well. Not that I cheated. I learned very early that if I was good enough, I wouldn’t have to cheat. Sandrino owned several restaurants in New York and had money to burn, but he was better known for the games he ran. He was the best poker player in the country, maybe the world. He was always jetting to Europe or South America to some game or other. Everyone wanted a chance to play Sandrino. He was in the big leagues. I was flattered he’d drop into the bar every now and then and watch us play. He wouldn’t say anything, he’d just watch the game. I thought he was weird, but I kind of liked him. Then one night I ended up in the alley outside the bar with my pockets picked and a very bad concussion. I woke up in a bedroom here a few weeks later with Sandrino staring down at me. I got very nervous. I was afraid he was even weirder than I thought.” He grinned. “It turned out he was, but not in that way. He told me that he and Rennell had wasted a lot of time taking care of me, and he made it a habit of never making an investment without demanding a return. So he’d decided to keep me here and teach me until he was sure that I wasn’t going to end up in a morgue instead of an alley next time.” He shrugged. “And that was the start of my relationship with Sandrino. He became my mentor, my friend, and many other things I’d never known before.”

“Which has nothing to do with me,” she said in exasperation. “Why did you let Rennell think it did?”