“Quiet.”
Dudnyk spent the next minutes listening at the door for sounds inside the banya, then examining the stairs and controls for evidence, annoyed by the constant tugging on his arm as his prisoner searched the same ground in her own way. Their shoulders bumped and they repeatedly stepped in each other’s path. Soon, he had enough, and reached to his belt for the handcuff keys. Not there. Had he put them in his pockets? They were so tiny, smaller than a twenty-five-kopek coin...
banya“Lose something?” asked Ezeriņa.
“No.” He dug his hands deep into his trouser pockets. “You’re going into the cell with Maksim. Whatever gossip he’ll tell you is not my concern. Getting ahold of a dire situation is. I can investigate far better with you off my arm and mind.”
“Getting to you already, am
