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“What did it say?” I asked, my voice even lower than before.
Thomas met my eyes. “We told him we knew what he was building, that we know why he might be hesitant—and that we can help him. Him—andhis daughter.”
Sparrow’s expression tightened. Egret stopped drumming.
“You mentioned the girl?” Sparrow asked.
“Not directly. Just enough to let him know we see the pressure points.”
“And what’s the ask?” Egret said. “What do we want from him?”
“Contact,” Thomas said. “A signal that he’s ready. If he tears the top-left corner of the Liszt Academy flyer on the Váci utca notice board, we’ll know. Nothing else. Just the tear. If we see it, we proceed.”
“And if we don’t?” Will asked.
“Then we wait. One week. No signal, and we turn to the backup plan.”
“Backup plan?” Sparrow asked.
Thomas thought a moment, then shook his head once. “Let’s not go there now. Focus on making this part work, and we won’t have to . . . Let’s just make this work.”
The table went quiet.
Somewhere behind us, a glass clinked.
The violinist drew out a long, mournful note like a sigh in the dark.
Egret finally spoke. “He’s being watched—even more than we expected. He won’t signal unless he’s desperate.”
“Then we hope he’s desperate,” Thomas said. “But careful.”
I leaned back, my voice softer now. “And if he gives us the signal? What then?”
“Then we leave him another message to include a specific location and time. We choose the site. We control the flow.”
“A church?” Sparrow suggested.
“Bathhouse,” Egret replied. “Think about it. There’s steam and noise. Inside, there’s no direct line of sight for tailing and enough movement to create chaos if needed.”
He was seriously suggesting this, not being his usual irreverent self. I was stunned into silence.
Thomas and Sparrow nodded.
Our food arrived—goulash for Egret, cabbage and dumplings for Sparrow, something unpronounceable for Thomas, and stew for me. We ate, more for rhythm than sustenance. No one said it, but we were already imagining the poster, already walking past it in our minds, already seeing the corner torn.
“How do we check the drop site?” Egret asked.
Thomas finished chewing a particularly tough piece of meat, then replied, “The guards saw Emu approach our target. You and I were on site. We can’t risk them recognizing any of us. Sparrow will need to visit the noticeboard to check for the flyer. She can do one run tonight when we leave here, then every few hours tomorrow.”
Egret crossed his arms, a scowl forming on his face.
Sparrow ignored him. “And in the meantime? What kind of trouble will you three get into?”
“We play our roles.” Thomas shrugged. “We have secondary sites we can visit. Emu could even visit the local city hall to discuss management and shit.”
I snorted. “Management and shit? That might be the most elegant description I’ve ever heard from you.”
Sparrow chuckled. “Sounds more like something my guy might say.”