“Rest,” she said, feeling a surge of respect for the man.

With a friendly nod to Mr. Lusk, she backed out of the door.

Odessa waited at the elevator, suffused with a lingering warm feeling of connection with Agent Earl Solomon, and at the same time a mournful ache for his apparent loneliness at the end of his days. She watched the floor numbers light up in sequence as the elevator rose to receive her. The only good thing about hospitals was leaving them.

Another person appeared at her side. She looked over with a courtesy grin and saw that it was Mr. Lusk, his chubby fingers tapping softly on his leather portfolio.

“Going down?” he said with a smile.

“Yes,” she said. He seemed pleasant enough, but also like he had something on his mind.

“Difficult,” he said, nodding with meaning.

“It is,” she answered. “He’s a good man.”

The doors opened. Mr. Lusk waved his arm theatrically for Odessa to enter, joining two other riders already inside the elevator car. They turned to face the closing doors.

“How long have you been Agent Solomon’s lawyer?” she asked.

“Oh, I am not Agent Solomon’s lawyer,” he said, again with a smile. “I’m just doing a bit of pro bono work for him as a courtesy.” His fingers drummed the portfolio again. “No, I represent Hugo Blackwood.”

Odessa turned to him. He stood smiling at the doors as they descended. “You’re Blackwood’s lawyer?”

He nodded.

“Then why can’t you get him to visit Solomon?”

“Me? Oh no. Mr. Blackwood does as he pleases. I don’t have any luck persuading him to do anything. I am simply his representative.”

The doors opened, and they walked together to the exit. Odessa said, “I don’t suppose you want to tell me what Mr. Blackwood’s business is, or how he affords personal counsel…”

Mr. Lusk smiled and shook his head. “Mr. Blackwood has asked me to take you to him. He wants to show you something.”

“Show me what?”

“I don’t know the answer to that.”

“He wants you to take me?”

They stepped out onto the street. “I have a car with me,” he said.

At the curb, parked in a clearly marked yellow NO PARKING NO LOADING zone, was a Rolls-Royce, vintage but not antique, black with faint gunpowder-gray styling.

Odessa stopped. “That’s your car?”

“That is Mr. Blackwood’s car. A Rolls-Royce Phantom.”

Odessa smiled and shook her head. “Here’s what bothers me most,” she said, as though Mr. Lusk cared. “The presumption that I would do what he wants. Get in his car and go to him and be shown whatever it is he wants to show me.”

Mr. Lusk nodded, smiling pleasantly. “I feel exactly the same way.”

“Like I don’t have anything better to do,” she said.

Mr. Lusk smiled and half shrugged. “Completely in agreement.” He opened the door for her.