Isabelle couldn’t quite fathom what had happened between Andy and René after she’d left the gym, but she knew it had upset Andy. In fact, both of them seemed on edge. And that cut over Andy’s eye wasn’t deep, but it meant that René had managed—wanted?—to draw blood. And René had groaned as she sat down, so Andy hadn’t played nice either.
But nobody was talking about the elephant in the room. No, they were all sitting around the table in Kate’s office, talking about Arlene Hampton.
Perhaps the dead should be left to fend for themselves, she considered. She was much more worried about Andy.
“Do you think Lautrec was honest with you?” Kate looked at Andy as if she didn’t believe her. “Do you really think the Russians followed Arlene purely because of his gambling debt, and not because of a connection to the Russian president?”
“He could be telling the truth, yes,” Andy said. “And you know Natalya Kuznetsova. She’s strong on collateral damage. Hurting the ones you love.” She turned to Jam. “Did you find anything in Lautrec’s records to indicate he has a gambling problem?”
“You mean big amounts disappearing and appearing in his account for no good reason? Yeah, sure. But his phone doesn’t place him anywhere near any casinos. If he gambles it mirrors his sexual appetite. All hush-hush. Don’t let the good folk with the pitchforks know who I really am, that type of thing.” Jam flicked her purple bangs from her eyes.
Isabelle thought she looked better today, as if she’d had some rest. The only people still looking haggard from lack of sleep were Kate and Claire.
She realized that her dream was probably only one of many Ma Soeur was currently working to resolve. She didn’t know how Kate kept it all together. She wouldn’t want the responsibility for that many people’s lives in her hands.
Andy sat back in her chair, hands on her legs. She looked calm, calculating, the playfulness from earlier in the gym gone. Whatever René had said or done must have angered her tremendously.
“I can go check with the Russians if you want,” she said. “I can go to Little Odessa to talk to them. I’ve told René that I think we should release our guest downstairs. Maybe we can track him to see where he goes, what he does. If he really is one of Kuznetsova’s men.”
“They’re going to be upset we took him,” René said.
“I got your request to let Sharapov go,” Kate told Andy. “And yes, I agree, it’s probably the best option, given the time we have available. I’ll make a phone call and arrange a meeting for you. Perhaps we can make some monetary amends. That should help.”
Claire shook her head. “Natalya would want cash and our funds are low. We are, after all, also a real charity, doing work in thirty-three countries.”
“Then we have to find a way. I can’t let Andy walk in there with nothing.” Kate bristled. “Letting Sharapov go won’t be enough. You know Natalya.”
“Okay. Whatever you say. I’ll see what I can do.” Claire looked down at her notepad, hiding her irritation. She wrote something Isabelle couldn’t decipher.
Clearly, René and Andy weren’t the only ones who’d had a falling out this morning.
Isabelle looked to the sunny morning outside the window, almost blinding in its brilliance. The sky was a deep, cold blue, split in two by the contrail of a plane passing by to the east. Kate had a corner office on the top floor of Ma Soeur with a beautiful view of Brooklyn and what lay beyond.
“When you’re done in Little Odessa I need you to go see Dr. Sandberg,” Kate said.
“The Norwegian prime minister?” Andy looked at her in surprise.
“Yes. She and her wife have arrived in New York, despite what they’d said in public about not coming. They want to know what happened to Arlene, and it seems Sandberg is intent on delivering that speech at the UN. You would be the best person to answer their questions. Ma Soeur was instrumental in getting her elected, and she has been a generous sponsor of ours for a number of years. She is aware of the fact that Detective Jane Wright and the NYPD do not necessarily have the full picture.”
Kate’s eyes locked onto Isabelle’s. “And take Isabelle with you when you go. We need a soft touch. Sandberg and Arlene went to Harvard together. They were good friends.” She turned her gaze to her hands clasped together on the table. “It seems Sandberg’s wife was Arlene’s first girlfriend. Arlene introduced them to each other. So be nice. These people are in mourning.” Her mouth took on a tired, twisted line.
Isabelle reached out to touch her, but Kate pulled her hands back and rested them on her legs, just as Andy had done, the only difference being that her fingernails were longer, a deep red, just like her lipstick.
“We’ll be as comforting as we can be,” Isabelle assured her.
Kate nodded sharply. “How is the case progressing? Do the police have any new leads?”
“It doesn’t seem like it,” Jam said.
“Nothing from forensics yet? What does our contact in the lab say?”
“The DNA hasn’t been tested yet. The results are expected this afternoon. But don’t worry. There’s nothing that will implicate Andy.”
“Implicate Andy?” Kate faltered for a moment.
“Yes. She gave her DNA to the police.”
Kate turned to Andy. “Are you insane? We most certainly don’t want you on any DNA database!” Her furious eyes burned into Andy’s.
“There was no other way,” Andy replied. “Not giving it to Detective Wright would have made me look guilty. I already cleaned up my brass, thinking I would get away, but then I got stuck there, doing CPR, the empty shells in my pocket.”
Kate looked away, at her shoes, her anger palpable. Then she visibly pulled herself together.
“Anything else I should know?” she clipped.
“Yes.”
Everyone looked at René.
“Isabelle dreamed again last night.”
Claire shifted her gaze to Isabelle. “Why didn’t you speak up sooner?”
Isabelle looked at Andy and shrugged. “It was the same dream, just more vivid. All we have extra is a possible location. Nothing more. No look at the killer, or the date.”
“Where?” Kate asked.
“The diner down the road,” René said. “Roman’s Diner. We’re all going to check it out later today.”
Kate looked at Andy, the concern on her face fleeting but intense. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Don’t worry.”
“No Victorias?”
Andy’s face remained straight. Isabelle slipped her hand into Andy’s, feeling the strong hand relaxing under hers.
“No Victorias,” Andy said.
* * *
“This predictive project of yours is a kickass algorithm. Man, I’m impressed,” Jam said as they all left Kate’s office and walked to the elevators. “The AI on this is amazing. Can I steal bits of it for our predictive analysis?”
“Sure,” said Isabelle. “Just don’t share it with anyone else. I still want to get my doctorate with it.”
Jam stabbed the elevator button with two fingers. “You’re going to ace it. They should just give it to you right now.”
“It helped that I could use Ma Soeur’s supercomputer to crunch the numbers,” Isabelle said. “The university doesn’t have nearly the firepower you’ve got.”
Jam nodded, pleased with Isabelle’s assessment.
“Plus, you gave me some information that normal people don’t have access to.”
“The cops have the same information. And the intelligence agencies.”
Isabelle nodded. “I know, but I don’t want my research to go anywhere near any of those places. How long before they input race parameters to determine crime patterns? Or sexual orientation? Before they start making all kinds of wild assumptions about people?”
“I’ve got news for you,” Jam said, frowning at the elevator still not arriving. “They’re already doing that. Predictive crime combatting is starting to happen all over the world. I may be out of a job soon.”
Andy leaned past Jam and jabbed the already lit button for the ground floor again. They needed to go to Little Odessa and it was ten in the morning already. “What we’re doing is different, and you know it. We don’t profile. We act, no matter who we dream about.”
“Defending Ma Soeur. Can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Jam teased her. She leaned against the wall, lifting her hands when Andy scowled at her. “I know. Not funny. I was just yanking your chain.”
“Are you ready for today?” Andy asked.
“Yep.” Jam rubbed her eyes. “Last night was the first time I got some decent sleep since this thing started, so don’t worry. I’ll be in your ears the whole time. And René and Marc will be on your asses like glue. Gonna be another fun day in New York City.”