Chapter 10 —

The city wore the kind of late-summer heat that made glass sweat. It hung heavy on the terrace and steamed the cups of coffee the assistants carried between meetings. Nicole felt the warmth through the thin silk of her blouse and thought, not for the first time, that heat was useful: it blurred fingerprints and softened edges.

She left the house with an unremarkable bag and a face that could be read two ways — composed or bored. That ambiguity was a tool she favored. ...