He scoffed, placing his other hand against the wall, locking her in. His forearm grazed her shoulder and tensed, veins raised. “You’re a lot of things, Sterling, but never humble. Your eyes crinkle when you’re about to say something clever. So. Tell me the clever thing.”
She swallowed. “Nope, I’ve got nothing.”
He leaned forward. His breath was sweet. “You’re cute when you lie.”
She panicked. “Fine. I was thinking of Madame Weiss.”
He dropped his arms and stepped back, then made one of those breathy, dismissive Austrian sighs. “Her business is legitimate. She has no reason to harm her top earner. Or do you know something that proves otherwise?”
“No. It was a silly theory.”
His brows arched. “Is this about your brief stint as a sex worker?”
“Mywhat, now?”
“Your background check was sparse. No tax records, no passport. No residence permit,” he said.
She attempted nonchalance. “With so much paperwork, some’s bound to get lost.”
“Yeah. I figured it must be afiling issue. Been meaning to call MA 35 to check if Immigration misplaced your files.”
“Andreas—”
“Someone’s scrubbed your photos from all records, but I found a lot about your aunt, Serafina Eagle. She had a fancy apartment, massive bank accounts all drained after her death as part of some sealed settlement. She didn’t have any living family members in Austria, which is odd, since it was a big apartment for her to have lived in alone.”
Because she hadn’t. She’d lived there with Sterling, until Weiss took it away.
He continued. “Six months after her death,someonestole her identity to register as a sex worker and underwent the initial sexual-health screening. Their license expired for failure to complete the follow-up exam. I bet if I dug deeper, I’d find that the ghost of Serafina Eagle looked a lot like you. Seems like something MA 35, if not the police, should hear about. But Beate and I decided not to make that call as long as you keep helping.”
“Andreas. Please. I just want to do my job and keep my head down and my mouth shut.”
“Serafina’s autopsy report says she fell down the stairs by the canal, drunk. Ruled an accident. Was there more to it?” he said.
“Leave Serafina out of this. Everyone has ghosts. I come from a long line of dead women, just like the rest of the world.”
“Did they all drink themselves to death?”
She could have spat in his face. “You ever wonder why Weiss’s pockets are so heavy? There’s only so much to be earned by sucking off men after the opera. You should look closer atherpaperwork. You know, it’s actually illegal to hire someone on a contract for sex work. All her escorts are classified as consultants. Did you ask her what they’re consulting on?”
“There it is,” he said.
She let out a furious groan, tugging her hair.
He stepped back and said nothing, smart enough not to tell her to calm down.
They lingered in the silence until her breathing matched his.
Once she’d cooled off, she said, “Look somewhere else. Madame Weiss is a dead end.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I tried looking.”
He scoffed. “Right, and if someone as smart and stubborn as you couldn’t do it, then a department of trained investigators don’t stand a chance.”
“So you admit I’m smarter than your whole department. Glad we agree.”
“Naja,” he said, shaking his head, meaning “yes and no.” A black curl fell over his forehead. She smoothed it back into place. Their eyes met.
