Helen arrived the same time the room service waiter showed up with Mark’s and Paul’s breakfasts. By that time, Paul had put on his sweat pants so he was semi-presentable for company.
She joined them at the table, pouring a cup of coffee, and while they ate she filled them in on what she knew so far about Peppe Sordi’s reaction to the death of his grandson. He was not a happy man, according to her.
“So now I get to spend the rest of my life in hiding, looking over my shoulder,” Mark muttered disconsolately.
“Actually, that’s one of the reasons I’m here,” Helen told him. “Finish eating then we’ll talk about your future.”
Mark did his best to do as she said, although he’d lost his appetite by then. When they were finished, he got Paul’s pills from the bedroom. Paul protested they made him
