Her kettle. It was hot and still faintly steaming. He had gained entrance to her apartment and had time to boil water…all in the time it took her to drink a latte, ride the PATH back, and stop in at Walgreens?

He noticed that she was flummoxed by the boiled water. “I brought my own tea bag, I may add. Mariage Frères, Milky Blue,” he said, sipping his brew. “Why don’t you make a cup and sit down, steady your nerves.”

That straightened her up. Her nerves did not need steadying. Her questions needed answers.

“I am fine as I am, thank you,” she said.

“The elements of the cases you describe present themselves to me as symptoms,” he said. “And these things occur in threes.”

“Solomon said that,” Odessa said.

“Earl, yes. I imagine he would.” He smiled. “The facts in evidence are unremarkable on their merits. But these incidences are curious in the abstract. Especially occurring separately within such a short period of time.”

“How do you know Earl Solomon?” she said.

Blackwood took in a breath, evidently inconvenienced by the question. “How did I come to know him?”

“How long have you known him? Who are you two together? What the hell is going on here?”

“Must we? You sent me a—”

“Yes, a letter,” said Odessa. “I drop a letter in a blank slot near Wall Street in Manhattan and my apartment gets broken into by a British man who won’t answer my questions.”

“Earl Solomon should have prepared you better. How is dear Earl?”

“Dying. Had a stroke. He is in his late eighties and should have been retired decades ago. I go to him, he sends me to you, and I need to know what kind of scam you two are running.”

Blackwood took another sip of his tea. “Apparently he didn’t tell you much about me.”

“No, sir, he did not. Left that part right out.”

“I see. I assumed you would have some idea of what to expect.”

“Left. That. Part. Right. Out.”

“Just gave you the address, did he?”

“Well, he’s not well. I did mention that, right? He’s dying?”

Blackwood shook his head once.

She waited. “That’s it? Not curious how he’s doing? No sympathy or concern, Mr. Blackwood? That is your name, correct? Hugo Blackwood?”

“That is my name, Miss Hardwicke, yes.”

Nothing more. She was already aggravated and unnerved, but this strange man’s casual callousness really got under her skin. “He’s in the hospital.”

“Unfortunate,” said Hugo Blackwood. “For both of us.”

Odessa smiled through her shock. “So you two are close, then.”

“He has assisted me many times. I have a most favorable opinion of his work ethic and professional performance.”

“He has assisted you many times?” said Odessa. “Who do you work for?”

“For? No one.”

“British Special Branch? Security services?”

“Oh no. Not them.”