"Say that again," I said. My voice was completely level. This was training, this was twenty seven years of keeping the voice level when the interior was doing something else, and it served me now the way it always served me, as the thin, reliable line between function and the alternative.
"I have a man on the building," Dane said. "Standard coverage, positioned at the entrance since last night. He just checked in. He says she left twenty minutes ago. On foot. Alone." A pause. "He didn't stop her because she's not a detainee, she's your wife, and he didn't have instruction to prevent her leaving, only to note movement."
"Where did she go," I said.
"He lost her at the corner of the Rue du Faubourg," Dane said, and I could hear in his voice the specific quality of a man delivering informat
