Gregor glanced around the room to assure himself that his work here was done and that no evidence remained. He was tempted to take the bottle of vodka with him, but decided against it. Explanations would be required as to why he had Misha's precious bottle, and Gregor had no patience for the questions of children. That was Nadiya's department.

He left the flat and went downstairs.

Nadiya and her charges were waiting in the car. She looked at him as he slid behind the wheel, the questions plain in her eyes. "You have the papers all signed?" she asked. "Yes. All of them."

Nadiya sat back, exhaling an audible sigh of relief. She has no nerves for this, thought Gregor as he started the car. No matter what Reuben said, the woman was a liability.

There were sounds of scuffling from the back seat. Gregor glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that the boys were shoving each other back and forth. All except the smallest one, Yakov, who was staring straight ahead. In the mirror their gazes met, and Gregor had the eerie sensation that the eyes of an adult were staring out of that child's face.

Then the boy turned and punched his neighbour in the shoulder. Suddenly the back seat was a tangle of squirming bodies and flailing limbs.

"Behave yourselves!" said Nadiya. "Can't you keep quiet?We have a long drive to Riga."

The boys calmed down. For a moment there was silence in the back seat. Then, in the rearview mirror, Gregor saw the little one, the one with the adult eyes, jab an elbow at his neighbour.

That made Gregor smile. No reason to worry, he thought. They were, after all, merely children.

CHAPTER TWO

It was midnight, and Karen Terrio was fighting to keep her eyes open. Fighting to stay on the road.

She had been driving for the better part of two days now, had left right after Aunt Dorothy's funeral, and she hadn't stopped except to pull over for a quick nap or a hamburger and coffee. Lots of coffee. Her aunt's funeral had receded to a two-day-old blur of memories. Wilting gladioli. Nameless cousins. Stale finger sandwiches. Obligations, so damn many obligations.