“I don’t remember anything. I don’t even remember his name, if I ever did know it. They went off to a table for a private chat for a few minutes. I was talking to some friends from work at the bar. After that, we left and did some window-shopping. It was near Christmas. Then we went back.”

“Back where?”

“Hugh’s hotel.”

“Hotel?”

“Yes. He traveled a lot in his line of work, so when he was here he usually stayed in a hotel. If we wanted to spend time together . . . you know . . . that’s where we’d go. I was sharing a flat with two other girls, so it could be a bit awkward going to my place.”

“Do you know where he actually lived?”

Faye frowned. “Not really. I mean, it never came up. I remember he once told me he was from Portsmouth, but he didn’t live there. I think he might have lived on the continent somewhere. At least, that was the impression I got from the places he talked about.”

“The same hotel every time?”

“Yes. He said once you’ve found a good thing why change it.”

“Must have been expensive.”

Faye shrugged. “Money never seemed to be a problem with Hugh.”

Zelda realized that she was living in a hotel at the moment, and money wasn’t a great problem for her, either, though at least a part of her expenses were covered by the NCA. “What was it called?”

“I can’t remember. It was a small place, one of those boutique hotels with a foreign name. Quite nice, really. A city in Eastern Europe. Budapest? Bucharest? No. Belgrade. That’s what it was called. The Belgrade.”

“Whereabouts is it?”

“Fitzrovia.”

Zelda knew the area. She had stayed at a Holiday Inn there once.

Faye blew on her coffee. “What’s this all about? Can’t you give me just an inkling?”

She was an attractive woman, and Zelda could see how she would appeal to men. She was taller than Zelda remembered, and she now wore her blonde hair cut short, emphasizing her heart-shaped face and big blue eyes. She had a sweet smile, when she chose to flash it. Not too sophisticated, but quick, bright and charming, certainly a good enough companion to show off at a business dinner with the boss. Her figure looked good, too, under the work clothes. Zelda imagined she would scrub up well. The problem was that Zelda couldn’t yet decide whether Faye was as crooked as Keane/Foley or merely an innocent bystander. On first impressions, she was inclined toward the latter view, but she was keeping her options open.

“What does he do?” she asked.