I put my phone on silent and look around the office. Everything’s neat and tidy. There are a bunch of patient files stacked onto tall shelves that take up an entire wall. Everything feels sterile. Aloof.
A few minutes later, Pendergast re-enters the office looking predictably terrified.
“Well?” I ask.
He approaches his own desk with increasing weariness. “Mr. Kovalyov—”
“Spare me. Just give it to me straight.”
“The staff member that signed him out—well…”
“Let me guess: they aren’t where they’re supposed to be.”
“No, sir, they’re not.”
“Round up your staff,” I order. “We’ll handle this my way.”
“Mr. Kovalyov, some are on duty and—”
“I don’t give a flying f**k. You f****d up, and now I’m here to clean up your mess, Pendergast. Have them gather in the courtyard.”
When I rise, Pende
