Epilogue
The figure in the dark suit leaned across the table and eyed the man on the other side. They sat silently, the room weighed down by the envelope on the table between them.
“Tell me,” the man in the suit finally said. “What happened to the washed-up drunk you promised me? I thought this Blume character was supposed to be a joke.” He spoke with a clipped British accent, an unnerving pause after certain words.
“Even drunks can be motivated from time to time,” the second man said.
“Have you lost your ability to keep an eye on him?”
“Absolutely not. When news gets out that he cracked this Ellington thing, he’ll be swamped with business. If he stays busy, he’s not a problem for us.”
After a slight hesitation, the man in the suit pushed the envelope toward the second man. He accept
