“Oh, hello, Hatun! I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you at first.”

The old woman smiled knowingly. “Findin’ a place in the world, I see,” she said, and brushed her shawl casually with one mittened hand. “And how are the new lodgings? Comfortable?”

“What’s that? Oh, yes, I suppose. Jackaby has lent me the use of a room. Speaking of which, did you happen to see where—”

“That isn’t it, though,” she cut me off, subjecting me to the same suspicious, narrow-eyed examination as she had during our first encounter. “Somethin’ else . . .”

“Right, well,” I said. “I would love to talk, but I really must be . . .”

“Oh dear.” Hatun shook her head and blinked several times, as if trying to clear from her eyes the drifting spots that come of looking at bright lights for too long. “Oh dear, oh dear, indeed. You oughtn’t go looking for him. No, not a wise idea. Really for the best you stay clear of him tonight. Keep away from Jackaby.” Her eyes squinted at me. “That’s what’s different about you, I think.”

I hesitated. “There’s something different about me, and it has to do with Jackaby?”

“I’m afraid so, dear. You must not follow him. It’s simply dreadful.”

“What is, exactly?”

She shook her head again, and her whole face tightened as though she had chomped down on a lemon. She looked up suddenly, and patted my cheek in a surprisingly sweet, grandmotherly gesture. “The—what’s the word? Immense, innocence, imminence, yes—that’s it. The imminence of it,” she said, “your demise.”

“The imminence of my demise?” I stared at the woman, with her tender eyes and layers of wrinkles, and let her words sink in.

I believed her, I realized, but I had already come to terms with my death so many times in the span of a day, I found it difficult to be frightened by the announcement. I had crested that emotional hill already, and the view was becoming familiar. “Thank you, earnestly,” I said, all the same. “Your concern is touching.”

Her omen delivered, Hatun seemed to, as Jackaby phrased it, “oscillate” instantly back to normalcy. She nodded and wished me well, as if we had just met at a casual luncheon, then shuffled away, melting into the milling crowd.

Soon the ranks of police had crept to nearly a hundred men, and they continued shuffling in from the streets and alleys. Some wore full uniforms; others had hastily pulled their navy blue jackets over evening clothes, clearly roused from their homes while off duty. One chilly-looking young fellow wore a pair of spotted pajamas, with only his stiff blue hat and black baton to identify him as a man of the law. I was impressed that Marlowe had agreed to Jackaby’s wild request at all, let alone that he had managed to summon so many men so quickly, and at this hour of the night.