EIGHTI CAME BACK TO BEDFORDVIEW late that afternoon. Five blocks from the guesthouse, just outside the entrance to the gated community which made up the area, was a little community center. The kind where week-night ballet classes for adults, kids’ gymnastics in the afternoons and all manner of other community activities presented by freelancers took place.
This time I dressed a bit more smartly, if not exactly tactically. With no idea what the evening would have in store, I put on some black jeans and dark sneakers, white T-shirt and light black jacket.
Earlier I saw that if someone parked at just the right spot, they would have a perfect view of the entrance and exit from the suburb, right from inside the community center’s parking lot. This is where I was now, waiting on any black Ger
