Mira had on a sky-blue shirt with a high collar and a cotton white skirt that went to the middle of her shins. Her hair hung loose and tousled, as if she'd just gotten out of bed. It made her face look softer. Her lips hung slightly open and I caught sight of the tip of her tongue resting on her lower teeth.

"Can I come in?" I said, and Mira nodded, saying that of course I could. She led the way to her living room.

"Anything to drink?" she asked.

I shook my head. "Not just yet. Maybe in a little while. I have some news, but first I want some answers."

"To what questions?"

"Just one, really: Was Esther sleeping with Inspector John Clapper because she was an Irgun agent?"

Mira's mouth dropped open. She drew in and blew out a deep breath and sank onto the sofa, putting her head in her hands. I sat beside her.

"It's true, isn't it?"

Mira slid her hands off her face and nodded slowly. "How did you find out?"

I told her about Strauss and how he had threatened to expose Esther's affair with Clapper if she wouldn't sleep with him. I did not tell her where Strauss had learned about the affair—I wished to spare Leah Goldin Mira's wrath and retribution. I explained that the idea of Esther becoming the lover of a British officer, in particular one who was in charge of preventing Jewish immigration to the Land of Israel, struck me as improbable in the extreme. The only way it made sense was if Esther was working for the Irgun. I finished by relating to her the events of the previous night: how I had managed to overpower the man Strauss had sent to kill me, the same man who had murdered Esther and Willie.

"He tried to deny it by feeding me some cockamamie story, but it was clearly all lies. He killed them. Strauss had arranged for an alibi the night of the murders—not that he ever needed it."

Mira listened to me without speaking, all the while wearing an expression of such unadulterated pain that it was a struggle not to look away from her. When I was done, a single tear broke free from each of her eyes and ran in parallel lines down her cheeks.

"It's my fault," she said in a bleak voice. Her eyes were wet, shining like the flat surface of a lake on a blindingly sunny day.

"No," I said.

She wiped her cheeks with her hands. "It is. She wouldn't have died if not for me. I should have never allowed her to become Clapper's lover. I was her handler."

"Her handler?"

"I was the one she reported to, the one she gave information to."

"Information from Clapper?"