“We would not have let her proceed, that’s true. We care about predictability, tolerable risks. That part of investing we do understand. Ncube has proven himself to be a reliably corrupt ally, but hanging you out was Eady’s plan from the beginning. Keep that fact firmly in your mind, Tom. Destroying your lady friend was Vance Eady’s idea. But the plan wasn’t moving fast enough. Krieger was impatient, offered to send one of his operators, a woman named Mapes. She and Tenchant crawled out of the same dark hole a long time ago. Kinetics is their specialty.” Barrow shook his head. “So the plan got accelerated.”

“What about Botha? He’s yours?”

“That man’s a skeleton key. He who has the cash gets to turn him. Eady turned him for this project. We went along. Your white whale, Eady called him.”

“Does he have cancer?” Klay asked.

“Eady? Oh, I expect Vance Eady’s got himself a terminal disease, all right,” Barrow said. “Cancer’s not what they call it. No.”

Barrow kept talking, but Klay wasn’t listening. He was going back, retracing. That night at the Confession Club, Barrow’s aggressiveness made sense now. Barrow had been hostile to force Eady to state explicitly what he had in mind. Klay had been in Barrow’s shoes plenty of times. You found a good branch, laid out plenty of rope, and waited for your target to hang himself. He wondered if Barrow had recorded the conversation that night. He had no doubt Barrow was recording their conversation now.

“You said you wanted my help,” Klay said. “You’re going to prosecute Eady?”

Barrow gathered his photographs into their files and returned the files to his briefcase. He closed the lid, laid his forearms over the top, interlocked his fingers, and looked at Klay. “No, Tom. I don’t expect so, not the way you mean.” He separated his hands and tapped a fingernail against an incisor. “Different set of teeth.”

MARCHING ORDERS

Chadian Airspace

The plane shivered. The pilot made an announcement. Klay and Barrow fastened their belts. Barrow explained that a look-alike, carrying Klay’s passport, was currently flying on Delta Air Lines flight 9470 from Johannesburg to Washington, DC. The flight had a regular stop at Amsterdam’s Schiphol Airport. “We’re headed there now,” Barrow said. “You’ll pick up your passport and continue on home. We papered it with the embassy. You were never officially arrested—Ms. Khoza helped you there. You’re not a fugitive. You’re a victim. Eady has antennae of his own. He may try to meet you at the airport. He’ll suspect you’ve caught on to him, but he can’t be sure. He’ll want to be sure. Our people will approach you at Dulles Airport, just for show. Refuse to talk with them. Make a scene if you’re up to it.” Barrow touched the skin under his swollen eye. “Nothing permanent.”