The other woman shook her head. ‘No, you should keep what is left. Eddie told me that it may cure more than just the eitr. You might need it some day.’ She gently but pointedly pushed the silver jug back across the counter to Nina, who reluctantly accepted it and replaced the stopper.
‘It’ll still be here if you need more of it,’ Eddie assured her. ‘I suppose now we’ve just got to wait and see if you get better.’
‘That may take some time.’
‘Hopefully not too long,’ said Nina. ‘It was only a few weeks before I started seeing an effect.’
Natalia nodded, then glanced at the clock. ‘It is late. I should get to my hotel.’
‘You don’t want to stay for dinner?’
She shook her head. ‘I do not want to impose on you. And after what happened today, I think you will both want some quiet time together, no?’
‘You sure?’ Eddie asked.
‘Yes, thank you. But I will see you tomorrow, I hope?’ She gave him a little smile. ‘I am looking forward to seeing New York — as a tourist this time!’
He returned the smile with sympathy. ‘You’ve been through a lot too. Are you okay?’
‘Yes,’ she decided after a moment. ‘I will be. Thanks to you — both of you.’ With that, she said her farewells, then left.
Eddie closed the door and turned, to see Nina standing in the centre of the room with an unhappy look on her face. ‘Eddie?’ she said quietly.
‘What?’
‘I’m not okay.’
He embraced her, holding her tightly. She was trembling faintly from the day’s ordeal. ‘It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s over.’
Her voice cracked. ‘It isn’t, though.’
‘What do you mean?’
She drew back slightly to look into his eyes. ‘I didn’t tell you earlier — I almost did, but something stopped me. I’ve only just realised what.’
‘Tell me what?’
‘I’ve been having… nightmares. Well, one nightmare, singular — always the same thing. How Macy died. She was…’ A choked sob. ‘She was murdered, right in front of me, and there was nothing I could do. And I see it every night, every single night, when I go to sleep. So I hadn’t forgotten Macy. I couldn’t. It was just that… every time I wrote anything about her, or read back through what I’d written, I saw her die, all over again. So I cut, and I cut, and I cut, until… she was almost gone. It was the only way I could keep working.’
He hugged her again. ‘Why didn’t you say something?’
‘Because I thought I could work it out on my own. But I couldn’t. I was…’ A deep breath. ‘You were right. I was in denial. And it took being kidnapped by a frickin’ Nazi for me to realise it!’
‘Funny how things work out,’ said Eddie.
‘Yeah, I know. Of all the ways to get closure!’
‘You think this’ll stop the nightmares?’
A small, sad shake of her head. ‘No. I wish it could, but… no. Just talking it out like this won’t be enough. Not nearly enough. I’ll need a professional — a shrink.’ She sighed. ‘Oh God. Just what I need, telling all my problems to a total stranger.’
‘You can tell ’em to me too, whenever you need to,’ Eddie reminded her. ‘I’m not saying I’m on a par with Sigmund Freud, but I know what it feels like to lose someone.’
‘I know you do. Thanks. And I’m sorry for blowing up at you.’
‘What’re husbands for?’ They smiled at each other, then he struggled to contain a yawn of exhaustion. ‘God, I’m knackered.’
‘It’s been a long day,’ Nina agreed. A thoughtful moment, then: ‘But you know something?’
‘What?’
‘I think I might sleep just a little bit better tonight.’ She managed a genuine smile. ‘Come on,’ she said, taking his hand. ‘Let’s go to bed.’
On the street outside, a young man with dusty blond hair looked up at the apartment building, seeing Eddie draw the curtains in one of the windows. Had the Englishman noticed him, he would have felt a sense of recognition, after a moment remembering where he had seen him before: on the street at the Feast of San Gennaro, the man he had mistaken for Kroll as he chased after Nina’s abductor. But following his unexpected close encounter with one of the people he was tailing, the watcher was taking care to remain unobtrusive.
He regarded the closed drapes for a moment, then took out a phone and called a number. It took a few seconds for the international call to connect. ‘Yes?’ an American man replied. His voice was stern, controlled, yet with a hint of impatience.
‘Prophet, it’s Berman. Dr Wilde is back at her apartment. She seems unharmed. Her husband’s with her.’
‘Do you know who kidnapped her?’
‘Somebody with a grudge against her from an IHA operation, as far as I’ve been able to find out,’ the young man told him. ‘Whoever he was, he’s dead now.’
‘Good. We need her to find the angels — at least, our associate thinks she’s the best person to locate them. And considering that he’s got a grudge against her, that makes me believe he’s right.’
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Maintain surveillance for now. Once everything is ready, we’ll move in. It might take a few weeks, but Mr Irton will contact you when we’re set.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Berman, but the other man had already disconnected. The dismissal did not bother him in the slightest. He put away the phone, watching the apartment window until the light went out, then headed off into the night.