Ally smiled wanly. Up ahead, at the coffee shop, men were smoking nargilah. Ally recognized a taxi driver out front, leaning against his car.

“That guy is friends with Hatim, the driver I use every now and again. He might know if he’s working tonight. I’d like to say goodbye before I leave.”

“Hello!” She picked her way across the sidewalk. “Have you seen my friend, Mr. Hatim?”

Behind his glasses, the taxi driver’s eyes bulged. He hurled his cigarette on the ground and raced around the far side of his car.

“He must think we want a ride,” Ally whispered to Tom.

The driver clambered into the driver’s seat and fumbled for his keys. Ally bent down and tapped on the window.

“I’m looking for Hatim,” she called through the glass.

The driver stamped his foot on the accelerator. His taxi lurched into the traffic and disappeared around the next corner. Ally glanced at Tom in surprise.

“Do I smell bad?”

Abdul Amir strode across the sidewalk, appearing as if from nowhere. Ally’s heart accelerated. Huda had said she wasn’t going to tell him their plan, but secrets had a very short life in Baghdad.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Tom?” Behind Abdul Amir’s shoulder, the men at the backgammon tables lay down their dice and eyed them sternly.

“You need to go somewhere?” Abdul Amir waved them back in the direction they’d come from. “I can take you. My car is parked around the corner.”

“Thanks, but there’s no need,” said Tom. “We’re just stretching our legs.”

Ally tried to copy Tom’s diplomat smile, but it wouldn’t stick to her lips. She knew Huda might be an unwilling informant, but she doubted Abdul Amir was losing sleep over it. Or was she wrong? The shadows under his eyes were purple as a bruise. His gaze flicked left and right and back again.

“Are you okay, Abdul Amir?” said Tom.

His green eyes continued to flick back and forth between them and a man in the doorway of a juice bar. Even without his leather jacket, Ally recognized mukhabarat keeping watch.

“Maybe we should go home.” She tugged at Tom’s arm. “I’ve got a few things to do.”

Tom had spotted the mukhabarat too and was eyeing him from under his lids.

“Okay, let’s go,” he said.

As Abdul Amir herded them toward the Corolla, Ally glanced over her shoulder. It seemed like every man in the street was watching them, all with that same dead-eyed stare. Goose bumps prickled her arms.