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got plenty of time and plenty to drink.”
    â€œI'll think about it. Something odd happened yesterday I have to deal with. If everything works out OK, then maybe.” Hugo hoped so, very much. “Wait, how come you have so much free time? Get fired?”
    â€œFuck you.” There was a pause. “Actually, I'm now retired. Retired and getting bored out of my mind.”
    â€œSeriously? I didn't get the party invite. When did that happen?”
    â€œWell, it's a half-assed retirement. Occasional consulting, mostly sitting around waiting for the phone to ring. You spend years learning how to pick locks, follow spies, and torture Arabs and then, when you know what the fuck you are doing, they give you a wristwatch and tell you to fuck off.”
    â€œWas it a nice watch?”
    â€œScrew you. Anyway, I begged them not to do it so they put me on the Europe desk, as a consultant like I said. Right now they have their eyes on a couple of corporate-espionage douche bags in Marseilles, so I might pop over and see you one of these days. And I have all my access codes and a fancy new computer at home, so if there's anything I can do to help out with your stuff, just call.”
    â€œThanks. I don't think there's anything right now, but you never know.”
    â€œOK. Genuine offer, so call if I can help.”
    Hugo heard an unfamiliar note in his friend's voice, a mix of disappointment and entreaty, like a kid finding his second most-wanted toy under the tree at Christmas. Hugo prodded, gently. “You sure you're OK?”
    â€œYeah, just a little bored. Didn't mean to be needy, but you know how it goes; seems like geezers of our generation are all getting pulled out of the field, one way or another. Most spooks my age are retired or dead, and as a reward for staying alive they gave me a crappy desk job.”
    â€œStaying warm, dry, and safe isn't so bad. That's what I do.”
    â€œYeah, I keep telling myself that. Trouble is, I'm not listening. But shit, I'm lucky to be around still, so I'm fine, just letting off steam.”
    Hugo heard his friend yawn. “OK,” he said. “Then I'll let you get to sleep.”
    â€œYeah, I need your permission for that. Anything else?”
    â€œYes. I like the idea of you coming to see me sometime. Call if you can make it. Or just show up, OK?”

    Hugo opened the large windows in the living room and stepped out onto the small, iron balcony that overlooked Rue Jacob. He had willingly paid extra to live on the fifth floor, wanting to be high enough so that the noise of foot and road traffic could be shut out or allowed in whenever he wanted. He inhaled deeply and let the crisp air drift past him into his apartment. Raised on a ranch outside of Austin, city living had taken some getting used to. No matter the weather, he preferred to have fresh air in the apartment. It was one of his quirks that Christine, always cold, had failed to appreciate.
    The street lay under a blanket of white, and the snow on the few parked cars showed that a good four inches had fallen in the night. The gray sky was tinged with blue now, and a breeze blew the occasional puff of white from the rooftops. Someone nearby had a fire going and the air was scented with wood smoke. After a minute he shivered and went inside, closing the windows behind him. He put on a second pot of coffee and, as it brewed, he stood by the gas fire in his living room, thinking about the day before.
    Who had said Max got on the boat voluntarily? Had the cops been to his apartment and found him alive and well? He wanted to go there himself, but without help from the police he had no real way of finding out where the old man lived.
    Tom. Of course ! Hugo dialed his friend's number, suddenly excited at the chance to do something, but after five rings it went to voicemailand Hugo snapped his phone shut in frustration. He looked around the room, as if inspiration lay waiting to be discovered, a