He thought of slipping into an arbor, but Rita led him across the street to patio tables sheltered by an awning. It was the same restaurant as in the videotape, and she went to the same table at which she had raised her glass and said, “I love you.” The inside of the restaurant was black. They had the patio and plaza to themselves.

Despite the early hour, Rita’s face was made up in a mask that was ferocious and exotic. The red slicker she wore had an oily quality that went well with her lips. Arkady unzipped her coat.

Rita asked, “Why did you do that?”

“Let’s say that you’re an attractive woman.”

They sat, each with a hand on the bag under the table. Because her coat was open, the pockets hung straight down, out of her immediate reach.

Arkady asked, “Do you remember a Russian girl called Rita?”

Margarita said, “I remember her well. A hardworking girl. One thing she learned was that she could always do business with the militia.”

“And Borya.”

“The Long Pond people protected the girls in the hotel. Borya was a friend.”

“But to make real money Rita had to get out of Russia. She married a Jew.”

“No crime.”

“You didn’t get to Israel.”

Margarita held up her right hand to show her long nails. “Do you see these building a kibbutz in the desert?”

“And Borya followed.”

“Borya had a perfectly legal proposition. He needed someone to help him recruit girls to come and work in Germany, and he needed someone to watch over them while they were here. I had the experience.”

“There’s more to it than that. Borya bought papers that created a Boris Benz, which was convenient when he went searching for a foreign partner in Moscow. This way he could be both. When you married Boris Benz, that let you stay here, too.”

“Borya and I have a special relationship.”

“And if the wrong person called, you could play his maid and say that Herr Benz was vacationing in Spain.”

“A good whore is a good mimic.”

“Do you think the Boris Benz identity was a good idea? It was a weak point. Too much depended on it.”

“It worked fine until you came along.”

Arkady looked around at the empty tables without taking his hand from the bag. “You made a videotape here and sent it to Rudy. Why?”

“Identification. Rudy and I had never met. I didn’t want to give him a name.”

“He wasn’t a bad character.”