She paid the driver. Kell walked ahead of her into the building, turning the key in the door, picturing Rachel asleep on Kleckner’s chest, laughing and joking over room service in bed, showering together. He should have been more careful. He should not have let his guard down. People always betray you in the end. Kell himself had betrayed many others. “Let me help you.” Elsa pushed open the street door and asked Kell for the number of his apartment. “Five,” he replied, and they walked upstairs. Kell was wondering why Elsa was following him. What did she want? “You really don’t have to come in,” he told her. “I’m fine.” “I am coming in.” As soon as he was in the kitchen, he poured himself a cognac and sank it in a shot. He offered Elsa something to drink, but she was already looking around the flat. He found her standing in the corner of the living room, staring at a shelf of Kell’s books. “Graham Greene,” she said. “You like this?” Kell nodded. He had read a Hitchens essay in January that had stripped Greene clean of his reputation.
