“But you’re okay? How are you doing?”

“Getting there.”

Odessa nodded, unsure what to say. Getting there. But he wasn’t specific about just where that was.

“Good, good,” she said, hating pleasantries and small talk at a time like this.

“What brings you back here?” asked Solomon.

“Well, I wanted to check in on you, and, um…I don’t mean to be rude, but can we speak privately for a moment?”

She smiled awkwardly at Mr. Lusk, who stood there with his hands in his pockets listening. He looked at Solomon as though to say, Not a problem.

Solomon said, “It’s fine, you can speak openly in front of Lusk, here. He’s a lawyer.”

“Um…okay.” She smiled again at Mr. Lusk, hoping he would take it upon himself to step outside for a bit. But the corpulent man simply smiled back.

Fine, then. She wouldn’t feel self-conscious. If Mr. Lusk wanted to stay, he was going to hear quite a tale.

“I mailed, if that’s the right word, a letter at the address you suggested,” she said, turning back to Solomon. “Hugo Blackwood appeared soon thereafter—very quickly, in fact—at my home.”

“Yes,” said Solomon, as though he were aware of this already, which was not possible. “Go on.”

“He, um, well, I guess he agreed to help me, or try. And we pursued some leads—one lead—and…yup.” She wanted to be blunt, but despite her determination she found it difficult to be completely open with the lawyer in the room. She knew she would sound ridiculous. “And then we parted ways. How do you know him exactly? He said you two go way back.”

“We do. What was it…’62? Summer of ’62.”

Solomon was looking to Mr. Lusk to confirm, for some reason.

“Wow,” said Odessa. “Was he a child…?”

“No,” said Solomon.

“And he is…what is he, actually?” said Odessa. “His job?”

“His job is being who he says he is, I think.” Solomon shook his head as though they were discussing the weather. “There’s no explaining him.”

“Tell me about it,” she said, unable to express her thoughts at the moment. “He has an interesting perspective on the Bureau.”

“He does, doesn’t he? I don’t think he fully understands. He thinks we are agents like real estate agents or sports agents. Representatives. At least, that’s his patter.”

“Patter?”

“I don’t know if everything he says is straight ahead, or sometimes tongue in cheek. He’s easier to be around if you don’t take everything he says to heart.”

“Is that right?” she said, still burning at his treatment of her.

“He gives more than he takes, I’ll put it that way. It’s worth putting up with the Hobson act for what he gets you.”

Odessa nodded but did not quite understand. “The Hobson act?” She thought Solomon was referring to some obscure federal law.