‘And I still don’t know who they are,’ said Louis. ‘But even if some misfortune were to befall these Vuksans – because who can say? – why should it matter if you have a hand in it or not? It’s all the will of God, and the end result is the same.’

The waiter brought the check. Louis reached for his wallet, but Mr Rafi beat him to it by placing ten euros and change on the plate.

‘For all of us,’ he told the waiter, before returning his attention to Louis. ‘And this is why it matters.’ In his hand, Mr Rafi held a small roll of bills.

‘Compensation,’ said Louis.

‘If you kill them, we get nothing.’

‘And if these Vuksans, whoever they are, pay you, then all will be forgiven?’

‘What do you think?’ said Mr Rafi. His pupils had grown larger, turning his brown eyes almost black, as though in anticipation of the suffering they might soon witness.

‘I think,’ said Louis, ‘that I may have to find somewhere else to drink my morning coffee in future, at least until something happens to you.’

Mr Rafi produced a card. It was blank, apart from a telephone number written by hand in blue ink. He slid the card toward Louis, who ignored it.

‘I’d advise you to take it,’ said Mr Rafi. ‘What harm can it do to leave open a channel of communication?’

Louis hesitated before, with studied indifference, taking the card and vanishing it into a pocket.

‘You have a good day,’ he said.

‘Ma salama,’ said Mr Rafi.

The smile was back with a vengeance. Louis decided that it would be an act of public service to wipe it permanently from Mr Rafi’s face, and erase Mr Rafi from the face of the earth immediately after.

Louis headed for the door, passing Mr Rafi’s companion. He bore a jagged scar that ran from above his right eye, and across his forehead, to behind his left ear. It looked as though someone had tried to unfasten his skull with a can opener.

Louis paused in front of him.

‘Yo,’ said Louis, ‘Harry Potter.’

The man glanced up.

‘Made you look,’ said Louis, and continued out the door. He patted the pocket containing Mr Rafi’s card. He now had a bargaining chip.

Perhaps Harris and Ross might be disposed to do him a favor after all.

Chapter LXIV