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A quick scan revealed to me that he was less tired than the other day but that jet lag had worked its wiles on him.
Something he confirmed by rocking his head back against the rest and closing his eyes.
"Did you see DeLaCroix is dead?" I inquired.
"See?" Anton chuckled. "My dear girl, I made it happen."
My brows lifted at that. "Interesting."
"Some pigs just can't be allowed to live," he stated, retreating behind his paper.
I didn't disagree, but it was still curious when his Brotherhood was so pious.
“This Interpol department… How did you pick the officers manning it?”
He heaved a sigh. “I hand-selected them but, by all means, I will have the list of officers sent over to you for vetting.”
Surprised by the easy concession, I murmured, “I’d appreciate that.”
“There are no skeletons in the officers’ closets as far as my Pauks could uncover, but a second set of eyes, especially when they’re yours, is always a wise decision.”
I had no idea why but my mind shifted to something Sheridan Reinier had said: ‘If you trust him, then you’re a fool.’
As a result, my question came out more abruptly than I'd have liked:
“Was my mother’s real name Galena?”
His hand tightened around the paper, making it crunch in his hand.
“I’ll take that as confirmation.”
“Her name was Galena, da.” He folded the newspaper in his lap. “Why do you ask?”
“President Davidson implied they were friends.”
“They met when he visited Moscow in his role as an emissary to the defense secretary in the late eighties.”
“And a friendship was born?” I queried.
“It was. Your mother could be persuasive when she tried.”
“Was it romantic?”
“She never said. I didn’t task her with seducing him if that’s your question.”
“Good to know you didn’t pimp her out on that occasion,” I mocked.
His eyes narrowed upon me, the papery skin crinkling between his brows, but he stayed silent.
“I spoke with Eamonn Keegan, Dagda, before we flew to England. He confirmed that Mom’s death was related to Jorgmundgander.” When he didn’t say anything, I demanded, “Well?”
“I wasn’t aware that you asked me a question.”
“Why have you gone to such lengths to avenge your son but not your daughter?”
“Isn’t that obvious?”
“Not to me. I’m not a child and I deserve to know what happened to her, dammit.”
