Absurdly, Karasek looked touched and had to restrain himself, saying only, “Good. I like that.”
Finn stood and said, “I’ll call on Sunday if that’s okay—give you time to get back. We can arrange a drop for the money, and then I can tell you where she is.”
Karasek stood, too, and shook his hand. “Until Sunday.”
Despite the newfound air of friendship, Finn was still cautious as he walked away, and went back to his own apartment before leaving again and making for Harry’s place.
When he opened the door, the apartment seemed empty. He walked into the living room. There was the bedding on a chair in the corner, and Finn was less forgiving of Harry’s sloppiness this time.
“Katerina? It’s me, Finn.”
He heard soft footsteps and the bedroom door opened. She smiled broadly, but put her hand over her heart and said, “You scared me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m happy now.” She came over and hugged him before stepping back, looking almost apologetic.
“So, you’re speaking English?”
“Better than before. Harry teaches me.” She put her finger up, stopping any reply he might make. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
He nodded, impressed, and said, “Yes, I would, thank you.”
“Please, sit down.” She gestured to a chair, her tone full of the joy of having unlocked the mystery of another language, one she’d known in the classroom perhaps, but that was coming into its own now that she had an English-speaker for company.
She went into the kitchen, and Finn took his coat off and sat down. He noticed there were some English books on the table—novels, but also language-study books that Harry had bought for her. A short while later, she came back in with the coffees and sat on the sofa, a reminder of the first time they’d sat there together.
“So, do you like it here?” He was aware of speaking slowly, and wasn’t sure he needed to anymore, because her English had leapt forward in just a few days.
“Yes, but Harry is busy now. I read the books.” She pointed at the table.
He nodded, made a show of leaning forward to look at the books, even though he’d already done so.
“And you like Harry?” He felt guilty asking the question, innocuous as it was, as if he were betraying his friend’s trust, when in truth he was just desperate to know that Harry hadn’t betrayed his.
She nodded and said, “He’s kind, and . . . funny. He makes me laugh.”
“Good.”
In some intangible way, he was reassured, because she didn’t sound like a girl who was besotted. She sounded like a child describing a favorite uncle, not a potential boyfriend. He looked at her, and though she was beautiful, though she looked superficially older than her years, she so obviously still had the spirit of a child that he wondered at both Harry and Karasek, at how they could not see it, too.
“On Friday I’ll come for you . . . Friday afternoon.”
“Where may I go?”
“You’ll be okay. A good friend of mine will help you. He’s Russian. He’ll help you.”
“I believe you, Finn. I . . .” She had a momentary lapse and reached over for a Russian–English dictionary, flicking through the pages before smiling and saying, “I trust you.”
Trust. There was too much trust around at the moment, but she was right to trust him, he knew that—in his intentions, at least. And it seemed within reach now, the end of his involvement in Sparrowhawk, the way clear to get her to Stockholm, everyone else wrapped up in other concerns. If he was anxious, and he was, it was perhaps because it had all come together a little too nicely, and because nothing in this business ever concluded that neatly.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
They didn’t speak on the journey home. Hailey sat looking at the closed Moleskine, tears streaming down her cheeks, though she was still and silent. Finn looked out at the city streets and thought of nothing.
As they entered their building, he noticed that Grasset’s door was slightly ajar, and at the sound of their steps, Grasset looked out and said, “Ah, Monsieur Harrington . . .” Then he saw Hailey and stopped. “But it’s nothing, a matter I wanted to discuss with you in private.”
“Okay. I’ll just see Hailey home and I’ll come back down.”
Grasset nodded, but to Finn’s eyes the old man looked troubled.
Hailey said, “Go now. I traveled right across Europe on my own, I’m sure I can manage the elevator in my own building.”
Finn smiled, but though he had no reason for it, he didn’t want her to go up on her own. He’d said she wasn’t in danger and he believed that, but something, perhaps just the fact that Grasset wanted to speak to him, had put him on edge.
“I know that. I was thinking of your parents. I think if we put on a show of being extra-vigilant, at least for the next few days, it’ll make them sleep easier.”