“You didn’t know it was them. It was just him.”

Majid thought back to the beginning. If only he hadn’t needed the money.

“He barely bothered to lie about the source of his funds. And I barely tried to check it out.”

“Okay. But what did you think he was? Just a common money launderer, right?”

Majid shrugged.

“Like Pleski. Like us.” Rafe lifted his glass. “To common money launderers. How we miss them.” He drained his bourbon. Majid finished his fizzy lemon water and put down his glass. “If Stavro does talk, what happens to him?”

“I don’t know. They give him a new name? Relocate him? Set him up with a shoe repair shop in Des Moines?”

“And who goes after his associates, the ones doing the killing? Not you.”

“Of course not. I’m just a common money launderer.” Rafe signaled for another drink.

“There’s something else we need to talk about,” Majid said.

Catherine stood inside the door to the club, reeling from the volume of the music. She saw Rafe with Majid at the bar, and she almost turned around and left. Instead, she squeezed farther in, past a man in a suit who was dancing with a woman in jeans and a belly shirt. She had decided to face other parts of her life. She might as well face this.

But what was this? Majid and Rafe were toasting and smiling, and Majid looked drunk.

Rafe saw her and looked surprised. Majid stood up to give her his stool. She hesitated, then sat.

“I didn’t know we’d all be here,” she said.

“Neither did I,” said Rafe. He looked at Majid. “He invited you?”

Catherine nodded and looked warily from one man to the other. “Did something happen?” she asked. She read their expressions, “Something happened.”

The men exchanged a look. “We were just in the Jardin des Alpes,” Rafe said, as if that answered her question.

“Uh-huh. Doing what?”

“Business,” said Majid.

“More Pleski business?”

“No,” said Majid. “Other business.”

Rafe said nothing.

“Okay.” If they weren’t going to tell her, she wasn’t going to beg. New topic then. She turned to Rafe. “Was the information I sent you useful?”

“Yes.”

“So what happens next?”

“Nothing that you’ll be involved in. Nothing you want to be involved in.”

Okay. She turned back to Majid. “That new account you sent me. What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Nothing. All you had to do was get it opened.”

She looked from one to the other. “So I do nothing. And I know nothing.”

“Exactly,” Rafe said. Majid nodded.

“So why am I here?”

Rafe turned. “Yes, Majid. Why is Catherine here?”

Catherine and Rafe were on the stools. Majid stood above them, like a parent. “For clarity,” he said. “I think it is time for clarity. We are not teenagers. We are not in a telenovela.”