“But what?”

“It’s what I do. I don’t know how to say it any better than that. It’s what I do and I do it well. So I want to keep on doing it.”

“You like it.”

“Yeah,” he said, concentrating on the last of his eggs. “I like it.”

The growing spark winked out as the old resentment returned with an icy blast. For want of something to do with her hands, Gia got up and began clearing the table. Why bother? she thought. The man’s a hopeless case.

And so, breakfast ended on a tense note.

Afterwards, Jack caught her alone in the hallway.

“I think you ought to get out of here and back to your own place.”

Gia would have liked nothing better. “I can’t. What about Nellie? I don’t want her to come back to an empty house.”

“Eunice will be here.”

“I don’t know that and neither do you. With Nellie and Grace gone, she’s officially unemployed. She may not want to stay here alone, and I can’t say I’d blame her.”

Jack scratched his head. “I guess you’re right. But I don’t like the idea of you and Vicks here alone, either.”

“We can take care of ourselves,” she said, refusing to acknowledge his concern. “You do your part and we’ll do ours.”

Jack’s mouth tightened. “Fine. Just fine. What was last night, then? Just a roll in the hay?”

“Maybe. It could have meant something, but I guess nothing’s changed, not you, not me. You’re the same Jack I left, and I still can’t accept what you do. And you are what you do.”

He walked out, and she found herself alone. The house suddenly seemed enormous and ominous. She hoped Eunice would show up soon.

2

A day in the life of Kusum Bahkti…

Jack had buried the hurt of his most recent parting with Gia and attacked the task of learning all he could about how Kusum spent his days. It had come down to a choice between trailing Kusum or Kolabati, but Kolabati was just a visitor from Washington, so Kusum won.

His first stop after leaving Sutton Square had been his apartment, where Jack had called Kusum’s number. Kolabati had answered and they’d had a brief conversation during which he learned that Kusum could probably be found either at the consulate or the U.N. Jack had also managed to wrangle the apartment address out of her. He might need that later. He called the Indian Consulate and learned that Mr. Bahkti was expected to be at the U.N. all day.

So now he stood in line in the General Assembly building of the United Nations and waited for the tour to start. The morning sun stung the sunburned nose and forearms he had acquired yesterday on the tennis courts in Jersey. He knew nothing about the U.N. Most people he knew in Manhattan had never been here unless it was to show a visiting friend or relative.

He was wearing dark glasses, a dark blue banlon buttoned up to the neck, an “I Love NY” button pinned to his breast pocket, light blue bermudas, knee-high black socks, and sandals. A Kodak disk camera and a pair of binoculars were slung around his neck. He had decided his best bet was to look like a tourist. He blended perfectly.