“One never knows what may be critical in a work of art, madame. Thus you may profit by knowing of the vile yet astonishingly accomplished sexuality of these monsters, just as I have made it a practice to meet denizens of the demimonde where I can find them and it may not surprise you to know that such folk gossip like old people at a café table. Thus the cunnilingus of Jack Price is a topic of endless fascination of course but—I mean for example did you know that the head of the FIS’s illegal assassination section is presently having an affair quite unsanctioned and unprofessional with the Dutch ambassador to Madrid?”

“No! I know Madame de Jong from her time in Bern that is quite remarkable—you’re not serious—”

“I assure you it is the talk of the underworld this season and has been since the pornography festival at Cannes when they were caught on a certain yacht—”

“O I believe I heard something about that but I had thought it was just a rumor—”

“I KNOW it’s so completely—”

Agent Hannah draws closer and her hand lands on my shoulder like old friends like confidential chat like that. I take a breath and I can smell her. The vinyl holster the automatic the herbal deodorant and sweat the whisper of lipstick grease. I know what she would taste like if I put her in my mouth. I know because these tiny particles I am smelling are also on my tongue we are within one another now already as we have been since the fight.

I hear her breathe in and I know she is tasting me too.

I do not randomly lick the agent of the Swiss Federal Investigative Task Force known as the Einsatzgruppe JONAS because that is not how professionals do.

One of the other agents makes a little noise like are we interrupting his fucking important thoughts and Agent Hannah scowls at me like this whole thing is my fault.

“Herr Telemark that is not germane. What of substance do you know of Jack Price?”

“Nothing of substance, I suppose. He was reported dead a few days ago I saw it in the paper.”

“I believe you are lying to me.”

“Then you too are living in my art. To be honest it can be lonely.”

“Jack Price is not dead.”

“Found art. Ambiguity is wonderful.”

“I know that he is not dead because I saw him alive. I almost captured him but he escaped me. Now I am to believe he subsequently bled out.”

“But you don’t?”

Agent Hannah says: “Be seeing you—Herr Telemark.”

“And may I know your name?”

Agent Hannah looks into my eyes and then away and she says: