JIMMY FELT A TWINGE of compassion for Zachary Berman, then discarded it. He was a weak man, after all. He had succeeded so well in life, yet had failed to control himself when it mattered. It had been easy for Jimmy to gain access to Nano’s secrets, but still, it all could have turned out differently if Berman had been more of a man. Jimmy was so sick of Berman’s whining that he rode in a separate car. After Berman had climbed into his, Jimmy had guided Whitney Jones into the second car and got in after her.

“You should have come to me earlier,” said Whitney. “I would have talked to him. It might have worked out differently.”

“I know you would have talked to him. But I think he was always going to be besotted with this woman. But his feelings will pass, and he will stop hating me. Or he won’t. It’s all the same to me.” Jimmy smiled.

“Nano will be fine,” said Whitney.

“I know,” said Jimmy. “Mostly thanks to you.” He looked at his watch. Everything was running like clockwork. They were already close to the airport, and it was important that Berman was safely in the air before the last act played out.

“Midnight,” said Jimmy. And he sat back in his seat.

•   •   •

ALTHOUGH HE MADE his connection quickly at South Kensington station where he had momentarily considered exiting from the Underground and finding a taxi, Burim strained every sinew willing the Underground train to go faster. Why was the train so slow? Why did the stations need to be so close together? Burim found a passenger who was alighting at Wimbledon, and he found out from her that he needed to be at the front of the District Line train to make the fastest exit. He barged from car to car through the happy and mostly drunken Friday-night crowd, who all took one look at the man and gave him leeway without complaint, realizing he shouldn’t be messed with.

Burim knew that Hammersmith was closer to Wimbledon than Piccadilly, and he had told George to hail a taxi, meaning he was bound to get there faster. Burim hoped to hell George could contain himself and wait for him. His job was to make sure Pia wasn’t moved anywhere before Burim arrived.

Finally, the train arrived and Burim burst out of the car. It was about a mile to the home whose address he had and there were no taxis in sight. Burim busted a gut running there. He knew the route from the guidebook, and as he approached the address, he could see George Wilson standing in the street, and he ran toward him. This was a quiet residential street, a richer part of town than the one where he had been staying. The houses were all four stories tall.

“Have you seen anything?” Burim managed. He was totally out of breath gasping for air.