Gregor is in the west wing room with his book closed on the table and the expression of a man who has been sitting with something for hours and has used up all the time he had for sitting.
He looks at me when I come in. His eyes go to Faye beside me and then back to me with the specific quality of someone who has already decided that her presence is right rather than surprising. "You got the message," he says.
"Yes," I say. "Tell me what you know."
He is quiet for a moment. He looks at his hands. "I will tell you everything," he says. "I have been intending to tell you everything since the night at Marre's farmhouse. I have been waiting for the right time and I have understood, since this morning, that the right time has been passing while I waited for it." He looks up. "There is no bio
