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“May I check a few things?” Rok asks her and she nods.
Brina lets him have the chair and a moment later he’s typing away, checking the sender and some sort of source code, which I have no idea how he accessed.
“Can you trace the email?” I ask him and he shrugs and nods at the same time.
“Maybe,” he says and turns to Hana. “Can I forward all this to myself?”
“If you must,” she says, then turns to me and Brina. “What does this mean? Can I print the letter or not?”
“Better not,” I say. “At least until we can properly analyze it.”
“It seems so over the top,” Brina says. “I’m willing to bet it’s a hoax anyway.”
The journalist voice is already telling me all the ways I can offer both my professional opinion on the letter and the little provocative nuggets, which will draw this killer even more out of their shell is very loud in my head.
But it grows completely silent as the door hisses open and Mark walks in. He has eyes only for me, and I can clearly tell he is very worried about something… probably me meeting Hana alone. He’s looking at her now, with a very measuring sort of expression on his face.
“Is that the letter?” he asks and both Hana and I nod, while Rok stands up to give him space by the computer.
It only takes a couple of seconds for him to read it, and his eyes are full of doubt as they meet mine. A damp cloud of cold air is rising from his coat, smelling like fresh air and snow.
“You think this is real?” he asks me.
“Yes, I do,” I say.
“And I would like to print it,” Hana says as she offers him her hand and introduces herself. She’s only a about a head shorter than him. I forgot how tall she was.
“No,” Mark says. “Absolutely not. Not until we know more about it and where it came from.”
“It was sent to me,” Hana insists. “I can do what I want with it.”
Mark narrows his eyes at her. “Sure. If you want more blood on your hands.”
“Oh, that’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” she says harshly and reaches past him to slam the lid of her laptop shut. Then she proceeds to stuff it back into her back pack.
“You promised me an interview,” she says to me in a surly voice. “But I can write this article without it.”
She stalks to the coat rack by the door without waiting for me to say anything, forcing me to follow her.
“Look, I’ll give you an exclusive,” I say. “But not yet. I agree with Mark.”
She scoffs and bunches up her coat over one arm instead of putting it on. “Oh, come on. You tricked me into coming here and showing you this, even though you already knew I wouldn’t be allowed to print it. That’s underhanded. Very underhanded.”
She strides through the door without waiting for me to respond and then runs down the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator.
I return to the office, where everyone is staring at me questioningly.
“Journalists, right?” I say and chuckle to lighten the mood. “But I don’t think she’ll print it.”
“I’ll call her editor just to make sure,” Brina says and walks to one of the offices.
“And I need to check something,” Rok says and walks back to his office.
“And I could go for some dinner,” Mark says, smiling at me.
He has that bright look in his eyes that’s always there when his worst fears for my safety don’t come true.
“Let’s go then,” I say. “And you can tell me what you found out at the church.”
