take three weeks, maybe a month. Where are you going to stay in Londonâwith Angela?â
âYes,â She seemed thrown off balance by the question. Angela was married to a solicitor; she and Ellie had been close friends. They had stayed with the Steiners in Paris the previous autumn.
âMax,â she said. âMax, where is this assignment?â
He didnât lie to her, although he was tempted. âGermany,â he answered. She kept on looking at him, the brown eyes seemed to widen until they overpowered her face.
âSigmund Waltherâs murderâis that what youâre going to Germany for?â
âYes,â he said. âIâm determined to do it. I want to know who and why, and a whole lot of other things. And itâll help to know you and the children are safe in London with Angela and Tim.â
âAnd if anything happens to you, are Angela and Tim supposed to take care of us?â
Oh, he said to himself, Christ, here it comes. âNothing will happen to me,â he tried to sound reassuring, instead of angry. He didnât succeed because he added, âAnyway, Iâm heavily insured.â She gave him an odd look, and he thought she drew her body back and upright, as if something unpleasant had passed close to her. He felt suddenly alarmed, as if he had taken a step too far in a direction he hadnât intended. âEllie, Iâm sorry. Try to understand, will you? This is terribly important to me. I have to find out why Walther was killed, not for bloody Newsworld but for myself! For my own peace of mindâI know youâre scared and upset, and you want me to come with you, but I canât. I canât give up the chance to find out somethingââ
He stopped, and in the seconds that followed, he tried to retrace that step towards the brink, by telling her the truth. He didnât get the chance. She brushed her skirt with both hands, as if she were dusting off an apron, and her face was small and pale and set tight like a fist.
âI understand one thing,â she said. âMe and the children come second. Iâve accepted it for a long while, and Iâve tried to explain it to them so they wouldnât be hurt. But now weâre threatened with God knows what, because of you and your goddamned job, and you have the gall to tell me youâre not coming over to protect your family! Youâre going to Germany instead, while we sit in someone elseâs house and let them take on your responsibility. Okay, Max, you go and play detective, and Iâll think up a good reason for Peter and Francine why their fatherâs gone off and left them.â She swung round and walked away; at the door she half turned. âTheyâll be really glad to know youâre insured.â
He drove them to Le Bourget at eight oâclock the next morning; his daughter was excited about going to London; his son had been morose and ill at ease the night before. He had muttered provocatively about being happy to miss school, but Max had ignored him. Ellie had been bright and artificial in front of the children, who quickly recognized that there was trouble between their parents, but when they were alone she refused to speak to him. At the airport he said good-bye, and it was forced and awkward. He kissed Francine, who started to cry from nerves and excitement, embraced his son, who went stiff, and kissed Ellie on the cheek.
âSafe journey, darling. Iâll call you tonight.â
âThat would be nice,â his wife said. âCome on, Peter dear, Francy, take hold of my handââ Then they were gone. He ignored the funny pang of loneliness that nagged at him all the way back from the airport to his office. He spent the day in the cutting room, and the reference library, and at the end of the day he had completed a set of notes. He did not give them to his secretary to type out. He took them back to the apartment,