“All right,” said Banks. “I understand Tadić had risen in the organization.”

“That’s no surprise. Men like him always do.”

“And Keane is involved in whatever’s going on? In what happened to you.”

“No. I didn’t know Keane. I have never met him. He must be new. He wasn’t around when I . . . all those years ago.”

“Can you help me anymore? Help me find Keane through Tadić?”

Zelda shook her head.

Banks felt that she was still holding something back, but he knew better than to pursue it any further tonight. Her defenses were fragile. No matter how tough her hard life had made her, there was a vulnerability and sensitivity about her that, Banks thought, once broken, once trespassed upon, would leave her defenseless. Instead, he smiled at her. “OK, interrogation over. Shall we finish the bottle?”

Zelda cocked an eye at him. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“Zelda, if three glasses of wine are enough to get you drunk, you’re not the woman I thought you were.”

Zelda laughed, a loud but strangely musical sound, and held out her glass. “Za Lyubov,” she said when it was full, and tossed a good part of it back in one.

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a Russian toast.”

“I thought that was na zdarovye?”

“That’s what everyone thinks. They’re wrong.”

“Za Lyubov, then,” said Banks. “When is Ray coming back?”

“I’m not sure,” said Zelda. “Soon, I hope. A few days.”

“You miss him?”

“Of course. Not his music, though.”

“No Edgar Broughton Band or Quintessence tonight, don’t worry.”

Zelda laughed. “He is like a little boy. But his paintings . . .” She sighed.

“And your work?”

“Bah. Nothing. Trinkets. Pleasant wall hangings to be sold at country fêtes like on Midsomer Murders. You watch that?”

“Afraid not,” said Banks. “I’m a George Gently fan, myself.”

So they talked for a while about television, music, painting, movies and books. Zelda, it turned out, had not only read all of the big Russian novels Banks aspired to—in Russian—but she had also read most of the big European novels, too, from Pamela to Ulysses. When he told her he didn’t know where she got the time, she said she had read most of them at the orphanage, in her teens, and it was true she had little time for reading after her abduction, and scant access to books. Banks felt bad for bringing up the subject when he saw the deep sadness in her eyes.