strict code of Washington family values required her to be on his arm, they lived entirely separate lives. It had been years since they had slept in the same room, let alone the same bed. Occasionally they found themselves having breakfast together, a minor torture Halliday escaped as quickly as he could.
Danziger was leaning forward confidentially across the table. "If there's anything I can help you with, you only have to - "
"I think you've confused me with a friend," Halliday snapped. "The day I ask for your help is the day I put a gun in my mouth and pull the trigger."
He slid out of the booth and walked away without a backward glance, leaving Danziger to pay the check.
Alone for the moment while Boris Karpov slept inside the convent, Arkadin poured himself a mescal and took the drink out into the steamy Sonora night. Dawn would soon be scything through the stars, extinguishing them as it went. The shorebirds were already awake, flocking out of their nests to sweep along the beachfront.
Arkadin, breathing deeply of the salt and the phosphorus, punched in a number on his cell. The phone rang for a very long time. Knowing there would be no voice mail, he was about to hang up when a raspy voice sounded in his ear.
"Who in the unholy name of Saint Stephen is this?"
Arkadin laughed. "It's me, Ivan."
"Why, hello, Leonid Danilovich," Ivan Volkin said.
Volkin had once been the most powerful man in the grupperovka. Unaffiliated with any family, he had for many years been a negotiator, both between families and between the bosses of certain families and the most corrupt businessmen and politicians. He was a man, in sum, to whom practically anyone in power owed favors. And though long retired, he had defied convention by becoming even more powerful as his age advanced. He was also particularly fond of Arkadin, whose strange ascent in the underworld he'd followed since the day Maslov had him brought to Moscow from his hometown of Nizhny Tagil.
"I thought you might be the president," Ivan Volkin said. "I told him I couldn't help him this time."
The thought of the president of the Russian Federation calling Ivan Volkin for a favor caused Arkadin to chuckle all the more. "Pity for him," he said.
"I did some digging regarding your problem as you outlined it to me. You do indeed have a mole, my friend. I was able to narrow the candidates down to two, but that's as far as I was able to get."
"That's more than enough, Ivan Ivanovich. You have my undying gratitude."
Volkin laughed. "You know, my friend, you're just about the only person on earth I don't want anything from."
"I could give you virtually anything you want."
"As I well know, but to tell you the truth it's a relief to have someone in my life who owes me nothing and to whom I owe the same. Nothing changes between us, eh, Leonid Danilovich."
"No, Ivan Ivanovich, it doesn't."
After Volkin had given Arkadin the names of the two suspects, he said, "I have one more bit of information that will be of interest to you. I find it curious that I cannot tie either of these suspects to the FSB or, for that matter, any Russian secret service whatsoever."
"Then who is running the spy in my organization?"
"Your mole has been extremely careful to keep his identity a secret - he wears dark glasses and a sweatshirt with a hood over his head, so there's no good photo of him. However, the man he's been meeting has been identified as Marlon Etana."
"Odd name." It rang a bell deep inside Arkadin's mind, but he was unable to access it.
"Odder still is that I cannot find a single scrap of information on Marlon Etana."
"Ah, a pseudonym, surely."
"One would have expected that, yes," Volkin said. "However, that would mean a legend to give the pseudonym reality. I have found nothing, except that Marlon Etana is a founding member of the Monition Club, which has many branches throughout the world, but whose headquarters seems to be in Washington, DC."
"A deep-cover arm of CI or one of the many Hydra heads of the American Department of Defense."
Ivan Volkin made an animal sound deep in his throat. "When you find out, Leonid Danilovich, be sure to let me know."
Be sure to let me know," Arkadin had said to Tracy some months ago. "Anything and everything you find out about Don Fernando Hererra, even the most minute, seemingly irrelevant bit of