Walt leaned his head against the edge of the door and briefly closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find on the other side of the door. He wasn’t sure he wanted Avery to be there. He wasn’t sure what might have transpired between them had he found her standing in the hallway. He felt at once disappointed that she was not there, and foolish for believing she might be. He closed the door.

“Who?”

“The brownstone in Brooklyn,” Oliver said. “It belongs to André Schwarzkopf. He flies under the radar but has been known to dabble in procuring false documents. Mostly passports, but also the occasional birth certificate and green card. We had a file on him.”

Walt shook his head to clear the cobwebs. He worked hard to change gears. “What’s it mean?”

“Garth Montgomery is either trying to get out of the country, or needs to move from wherever he’s hiding now—maybe Mexico or South America—to somewhere else. Somewhere new. He needs documents to do it, probably a passport. And his daughter is helping him. How long was she in this guy’s house?”

Walt shrugged, thinking back to the morning he followed Avery to the Park Slope neighborhood. “Maybe twenty minutes.”

“Did she have anything when she left?”

“Just her purse, same as when she entered.”

Walt walked to the nightstand and picked up his drink. “Put somebody on the guy. Keep tabs on him twenty-four/seven.”

Oliver nodded. “Already on it. Tell me about the cemetery.”

“The cemetery?”

“Yeah. When you followed her to Green-Wood Cemetery.”

“Not much to tell. She took a slow stroll through the grounds. I stayed at a good distance. She approached a grave site, hesitated for several minutes before she actually stood over it. Then she dropped flowers and hurried away. Whose graves were they?”

“Annette and Christopher Montgomery. Her mother and brother.”

Walt stared into his rum. “That’s sad.”

“Her mother died while we were investigating Garth Montgomery. Had a heart attack after he disappeared and all the details about him came out, including his fifteen-year affair with a woman half his age. We thought the death of his wife might cause him to surface, but the son of a bitch stayed in hiding. Can you believe that? Didn’t even go to his own wife’s funeral. A real son of a bitch, this guy. We’ve been watching Claire Montgomery for three years now. She visits Green-Wood Cemetery every year.”

“Every year?”