CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
It’s a chilly afternoon in early January. You’re in the workroom sorting through some photographs that you developed the previous day, when the phone goes. These days, the phone makes you even more tense than it used to. The pre-publicity for your exhibition at Torsten’s gallery has started to go out, and you worry that Pankowitcz will find out about the photographs you’ve been taking of him or that she will get in touch.
She should be scared of you, but there is a big part of you that is scared of her. You’ll never forget what she said to you when you confronted her in the apartment on Shakespeare Street after you had seen your files. She knew you were going to Normannen Street. She’d tried to talk you out of it. She must have been sitting at home all day, preparing
