"Suit yourself." He said it in English.

"You're not American, not with that accent."

"Irish."

"What do the Irish want with a North Korean?"

He moved his head in a slow arc, stretching his neck muscles. "You know, some people say the Irish and the Koreans are alike."

I snorted. "Don'tfool yourself. It's an insult to one of us." I took another look at the clock on the wall. "Let me guess. You work for British intelligence.

What do they need with me?"

"No one needs anything, not from you, anyway, friend. We're not even sure who you are. I couldn't care if you float away on the Vltava with the rest of the trash. In case you've forgotten, you set up this meeting. You're here. So the question is, what do you want?"

"I didn't set up anything. I just made a phone call to a friend."

"Maybe your friend got in touch with us."

"I don't think so. I think you're listening in on conversations that don't concern you."

"You're here. We're here. Maybe a mathematical improbability. Two bodies on different vectors in the same place at the same time."

"I'd call that a collision."

"That would be up to you, wouldn't it?"

"You know what? Your problem is you think you've got a real live North Korean on the hook. But you don't know why. You're thinking to yourself, maybe the guys wants to defect, maybe he has the crown jewels."

The Irishman looked me over very deliberately, like a man about to buy a piece of used furniture. Finally, he said, "No, I don't think you have the crown jewels. Because if I did, you'd already be out the back door and into a car. Maybe I was interested when you walked in. Now, I'm not so interested.