I think?" Danton sounds angry now. "I think you knew all along you were infertile. You knew and married me anyways."
The accusation is so outrageous Veronica can't find the right words to respond.
"So don't you come to me talking about things you don't understand. You're not getting any more money from me. You've gotten more than enough already. Seven years of the high life is more than most women like you get. Plus alimony for life. You should count yourself lucky."
"Lucky? Lucky? You piece of shit. You piece of shit." She can't believe she used to tell this man she loved him, that she slept beside his hairy, walruslike body most nights for seven years and told herself she didn't mind his snoring, didn't mind the carelessly indulgent way he treated her, as if she was more pet than wife, didn't mind the selfish, mechanical way he fucked her on the rare occasions he was roused to sex. She can't believe she once hoped to bear his child. She wants to walk over and smash his face, crush his testicles, gouge his eyes out.
Danton's face hardens. He reaches for the phone on his coffee table.
"They're blackmailing you, aren't you?" she asks. "The terrorists. Blackmailing you and Strick. What are they making you do? What do they want?"
Danton freezes. Then he turns and stares at her as if he has actually noticed her presence, in a way he never has before, as if he is really looking at her for the first time ever. Veronica realizes she just made a mistake, maybe a terrible one, in her effort to score a point and make him feel something. She shouldn't have given away what they know.
"You don't know what you're doing," Danton says quietly. "If you keep playing with fire, you will get burned alive." He pushes a button on his phone, waits only a moment, of course his call is answered immediately, all his calls are answered immediately.
"Get over here," he says to the phone. "I have a security situation."
"You can't do it," Veronica says. "Whatever they want you to do. People will die. Innocent people. God knows how many. You have to turn yourself in."
Danton looks at her, considering. For a second she wonders if he's going to allow her to depart.
Then he says, "You know why I'm here, Veronica? To save lives. I suppose I might as well try to save yours too. You should be grateful. I'm giving you one last chance. Stop interfering and go home. Today. No one's going to warn you again."
* * *
"To save lives?" Jacob asks, puzzled. His hands falter in mid-gearshift and the Toyota nearly stalls. He isn't accustomed to piloting a right-hand-drive stick-shift. "That's what he said? I mean, even if he's lying -"
"There's no if about it."
He decides not to argue the point. "Fine, but it's kind of a weird lie to tell, don't you think?"
Veronica shrugs.
"You didn't find out anything else?"
She hesitates. "Not really. I think he might suspect we know about Strick."
Jacob starts. "What? How?" If true, it's disastrous. The element of surprise is almost the only thing in their favour.
"Just his attitude, his face when he said he had friends in the US government."
"What were his exact words?"
She shrugs. "I don't remember. I was too wound up."
Jacob frowns. There's something about her body language. "You didn't give anything away, did you?"
"I don't know. I don't think so. But, I mean, we were married. He's supposed to know me pretty well. Maybe not though. He never paid that much attention to me."
"He never paid attention to you?" Jacob asks incredulously.
"Not after we got married. The way he saw it, his wife's job was to impress his friends, keep him warm at night, run the occasional errand, bear his children and acknowledge his supremacy. Not someone to have a meaningful relationship with."
"Jesus. Why did you stay?"
She sighs. "I don't know. I mean, for a long time I really believed he loved me, in his way, he was just distant and hard-working and reserved. The lies we tell ourselves. And… you know, being his wife was the good life. Villas, penthouses, yachts, private jets, expense accounts, beautiful people, amazing parties. He went away on business a lot and it was all mine. I guess on some level I must have known what I really was. And I guess I was okay with it. It was his idea to get a divorce."
"He dumped you? Why?"
"I can't have children. Endometriosis. I didn't