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When Ivanna walked in, she glanced around, smiled.

“I’m never not in wonder of this house. So many beautiful spaces. Where do you want me?”

“If you’d just take a seat at the table. I need to record this.”

“Of course.” Slim, graceful, she walked to one of the leather chairs.

She still wore her wedding ring, Eve noted, a thin band of tiny diamonds that caught the light.

“We’ve got coffee or tea.”

“I’d love some tea, thank you.”

“How do you take it?” Peabody asked her.

“Just as it comes.” Before she sat, she admired the view out the windows. “Yes, always a wonder. I saw Roarke when he was a boy. Well, a young man,” she corrected as she sat. “Shortly after Marlena’s murder. The grief, it radiated from him. The grief, the guilt, the rage.”

“He hasn’t mentioned that.”

“He wouldn’t have seen me, or noticed me if he had. Or remembered me if he’d done either. I was very good at what I did. I thought of recruiting him, such a clever one, so skilled—and the anger can be a plus.

“Thank you,” she said when Peabody brought her tea. “But Summerset needed him, so I let him be. I deleted his file.”

“You had a file on Roarke?”

“My agency did.”

“And your agency?”

“MI6.”

“Ms. Liski—”

“Ivanna, please. You prefer Dallas and Peabody, but we all have connections here. Though I still have connections in my former work, I’ve retired. There are things about that work I can’t and won’t tell you. They’re above your security clearance. But I believe what you’ll ask me here won’t apply to any of that.”

“You were an agent, a field agent, for MI6?”

“That’s correct.”

“During the Urbans.”

“During the Urbans—and before—I was a dancer, at first in Kyiv. I’d left my home, and Summerset. We were very young, madly in love, as you are when you’re very young. But I left to dance, and he stayed. So I danced, and it was my life. I believed it had to be. I met Liev, worked with him. And we loved, we married, and had two children. They were my life, though I went back to the dance. I found a balance.

“You understand.”

“Yes.”

“And the war spread, and it took him from me. I was asked to use what fame I had amassed, the entrée I had to people and places, to gather information.”

“For MI6.”

“Yes. Initially as an asset, then as an operative.”

“Who recruited you?”

“I can’t answer you.”

She said it smoothly, sipped her tea. Then set down her cup.

“I can tell you I accepted—anger and grief can be advantages. I trained, and I worked, and I danced. I accepted an assignment to work with the Underground. And in turn, I recruited Summerset. He’d come to London to study medicine, and was working as a medic. He had skills, useful skills, and I could trust him with my life. We weren’t what you would call partners, but colleagues.”

“And Conrad Potter?”

“A police officer, who’d come into that from military intelligence. He passed all the screenings.” Now, as grief showed for the first time, Ivanna squeezed her eyes closed. “What did we miss? How and why did we miss it? I can’t say for certain. If he had help on the inside, all of our resources never found it.

“I looked,” Ivanna continued as Eve let her set her own pace. “Alice was dear to me, to all of us, as was Leroy. But Alice was so dear to me especially. I looked. He was, I believe, what we call a lone wolf. None of us saw through him, and that is my biggest regret.”

She leaned forward. “I trusted him. I trusted him with my life more than once. We all did. We didn’t see what was in front of us. I thought him cagey, but this was an advantage. I knew him to be ruthless, but the times called for ruthlessness.”

She stopped, shook her head. “But he had no loyalty, and no family. If Alice hadn’t given her life, he would have gotten away. I have no doubt he’d have killed Harry. It would provide more cover. And then, caught, tried, he never broke. Never said the name of anyone who might have helped him.”

“Because there wasn’t anyone,” Eve concluded. “Or no one of any importance.”

Ivanna nodded. “Yes. He had no one. I can’t fathom who he persuaded to kill Gio. I can’t fathom who would wait so long, and years after Potter’s death, to kill again.”

“I have that answer. Conrad Potter isn’t dead. He killed Rossi himself, and he plans to do the same with all of you.”

“That’s not…” Holding up both hands, Ivanna sat back. The delicacy of her went steely.

“I’ve lost a step, haven’t I? More than one, I see now. Retired, living my quiet life. Of course, of course. He had no one.”

The steel stayed in place as she looked at Eve.

“He’d need someone inside the prison. A doctor.”

“That’s right.”

“The warden.”

“I don’t think so. That comes across, and clearly, as carelessness. The doctor’s in the wind, and has been. Old ID wiped, so he’s got a new one. A good one. We’re on it.”

“I still have contacts and can—”

“If we don’t find him in the next… eighteen hours, I’ll give you the green on that. But not until. He won’t know where to find Potter. He can only confirm what I’m already sure of. And pay for it.”

“No, he won’t know where to find Shark. Still alive,” she murmured, “and Gio isn’t.”

“Tell me things I won’t find in background runs, in files. Tell me what he likes, what he doesn’t. What he drinks, what he eats.”

Ivanna nodded. “Yes, yes, I see. Useful things. Let me think. Let me think back. Understand, we had to be careful about being seen together outside HQ. Summerset and I had a history, so we could meet. And then Alice, of course. I might have lunch or attend an event with Marjorie or Iris due to social circles, but…

“Harry is likely a better source for this, but I can tell you he had a sweet tooth, and a particular fondness for Fry’s Peppermint Cream bars. Candy. Three sugars in his tea. His fitness routine was rigid, perhaps to compensate for that sweet tooth. He liked the finer things, fashionable things. Even his casual clothes were higher-end brands.”

She paused a moment. “Prison would have been very hard on him I’m happy to say. He considered himself a ladies’ man, and could be very charming, very smooth. This, an advantage when the source or asset was female. He was good at what he did. We all were.”

“Any attachments?” Peabody asked. “Hobbies, outside interests?”

“He had no family, never spoke of friends. Golf. I recall he commented that the wars had infringed on his golf game. After the explosion, after we understood what he’d done, we searched his flat. He had golf clubs, and the furnishings were top drawer. He’d clearly already removed a great deal in preparation, including his electronics, records, communications.”

“You were never able to find those?”

“No. We did track a storage facility outside of London where he had art—art he shouldn’t have had—wardrobe, as well as jewelry, a valuable coin collection, another of stamps, and more we learned he’d taken from either people he’d terminated or from homes that had been damaged and were unoccupied.”

Ivanna lifted her delicate hands. “We were a unit, and before that night I would have said we knew each other, and well. In Shark’s case, I would’ve been wrong. I was wrong.”

“So was the rest of your team, your superiors in the Underground and at MI6.”

“Yes, that’s true. And none of us can afford to be wrong again.”

“If you think of any other details, we’ll factor them in. We appreciate the time. If you could send up Ms. Wright.”

“Of course. I’m at your disposal for as long as it takes. We all are.”

When she walked out, Eve turned to Peabody. “Find out where you can get that candy bar in New York. If you can get it here. And we can start checking golf courses.”

“He stole from dead people.”

Eve angled her head. “And this offends you more than making them dead?”

“No. Sort of. I’m just saying it’s so… low. It could be a bad guy, an enemy agent, and Potter’s like 007—that’s—”

“I know who that is.” She’d watched some of the vids with Roarke.

“Okay, license to kill, right, and it’s war. But then you take the dead guy’s coin collection for personal gain? That’s subzero.”

“I think we’ve established Conrad Potter as subzero.”

Rising, Eve walked to the window. Yeah, Ivanna had it right. A wonder.

“What she told us fits Mira’s profile like a boot.”

“It’s a glove.”

“Not if it’s on your foot. And more, we’ve got candy bars and golf. He’s been out for a few years, sure, but he was in a lot longer. You’re going to want what you missed. Fashionable high-end wardrobe. If he wants or needs sex, it’d be a high-end LC most likely. We can work all of that.”

“We’re going to get more. People remember different things. And once they’re all together, talking, they’ll remember other different things.”

“That’s exactly right. She didn’t like him.”

“Sorry?”

“Ivanna, she didn’t particularly like Potter back then. Trusted him, respected him, but she didn’t really like him.”

“I didn’t get that, but now that you say it, I do. She was careful how she phrased things.”

“Some of that’s training.”

“Spy training!”

Eve ignored Peabody’s delight.

“But she’s wired to be polite, discreet on top of that. Ivanna’s not the type to just come out and say Potter was an asshole.”

“I’ll say it.” Marjorie glided in. “Conrad was an asshole. Skilled, nearly brilliant, but an absolute prick.”

“Care to elaborate?” Eve invited.

“I’d be delighted, especially if you have something stronger than tea or coffee.”

“I can make that happen.”

“Then, my darling copper, I’d adore a G and T. Gin and tonic,” she added.

“Peabody, see if the AC runs to one of those.”

“Sure.” As she rose, Peabody noticed Marjorie’s eyes sparkled, but with tears. “Dame Wright, did something happen?”

“I’m a bit emotional. Ivan and Cyril arrived, and it struck me, and very hard, that we’re what’s left of us. So a G and T, if you’d be so kind, to fill the crack in my heart.”

“I bet telling us how Potter was an asshole will lift your spirits.”

Marjorie grinned at Eve, then did that head-toss laugh. “Oh, I’m going to like you. Both of you. And I’m going to flirt outrageously with your gorgeous husband. Do you have one, Detective? A spouse?”

“I’ve got a guy.”

“Is he adorable?”

“I think so.”

“Then I’ll flirt outrageously with him if I get the chance. That’s my wiring. Oh, a thousand blessings on you,” she said when Peabody brought her a tall gin and tonic with a slice of lime. “Cheers.”

She took a sip, breathed out. “You’re quite right about Vanna’s wiring. I, on the other hand, have no problem being impolite and indiscreet. If you’d asked her outright if she’d liked Potter, she wouldn’t have lied. Not that she can’t and won’t lie, considering her stellar career, but she won’t lie to you. And certainly not about Shark. Bloody hell, I refuse to call him that—those names were ours. I slipped.”

She drank again, then set the glass down. “You’re recording this?”

“It’s necessary.”

“I have no issue with that, nor with saying I didn’t like Conrad Potter.”

She wore diamonds as well, two little hoops of them in one ear, one in the other.

“Did I trust him? Absolutely. We had to trust each other, and I believed he’d earned that trust. But on a more personal level? Wanker. He considered my work—as an actor—barely legitimate. The cinema? Pabulum for the masses. And Cyril, being gay? Earned more than one smirk or look of contempt.”

She shrugged. “He was more subtle, more careful with Leroy, who was Black, Iris, mixed race, but you only had to scratch the surface to see the bigotry. And there was a level of that as well for Summerset, Vanna, Ivan, Gio for coming from outside Britain.”

“Doesn’t sound like a team player.”

“Well, he wasn’t, was he?” Lifting her glass, Marjorie sipped more of her drink. “He seemed to be, did the work, did it well, collaborated with all of us whenever necessary. Hindsight, Lieutenant. With hindsight, it’s clear to see he was more suited to the fringe groups we fought at the end than The Twelve.”

“Dame Wright,” Peabody began, and Marjorie flashed her a megawatt smile.

“Let’s make it Marjorie. We’re all just girls spilling the tea.”

“Golly. Ah, she means like gossiping,” Peabody told Eve. “I wondered, as Ivanna said Potter considered himself a ladies’ man, if he ever, well, moved on you.”

“Once. It only took once for me to shut that down, as I wasn’t the least bit interested. He had more of an eye for Alice, though he never tried anything there—as far as I know—as he was very aware when someone could and would crush him like a bug. Which Summerset could have done, but Alice would’ve done so first.

“I know he never moved in on Vanna, but everyone knew she was MI6, so he wouldn’t want to cross that line. And he never tried anything with Iris that I know of. But that would’ve been his bigotry.

“He used women, used sex to pull them in as assets, to gain information. I can’t throw stones there, as I did the same myself with men, more than once. But—what’s that expression? Ah, I took one for the team. Potter, on the other hand, enjoyed using people.

“Using others, exploiting others, it was necessary. But one didn’t have to enjoy it.”

Eve ran her through similar questions as she’d asked Ivanna, got similar answers.

Then a little more.

“Oh, he disliked cats. There were a lot of strays and displaced cats on the streets in those days. Potter had an asset who took a couple in, and he complained bitterly about that. Oh, and he was always smooth-shaven. He left a kit at HQ so if we needed to work overnight, he could shave. Obsessive about it.”

Sitting back, sipping her drink, she thought back. “A vain man, but I’m a vain woman, so again, no stones thrown. He respected Rabbit—Sylvester. He’d often ask Rabbit to teach him more about explosives, timers. Maybe it was the military bond, I can’t be sure. I’d say he found Ivan interesting. He often asked more details about his work, his inventions. And I believe he genuinely liked Harry, as much as he was capable of liking anyone.”

She lifted her glass in toast again. “Of course, he’d have killed any or all three of them without hesitation and regret, and we believed he meant to kill Magpie that night. Without Fawn and Magpie giving us the warning, we would have moved on the prison in Whitechapel. Into the trap.”

“You were part of the team formed to take down the prison?”

Marjorie smiled at Peabody again. “There’s a reason I did most of my own stunts in the trio of action vids I starred in. I was a badass.”

“I don’t see the ‘was.’”

At Eve’s comment, the smile became a quick, delighted grin. “See, I knew I’d like you.”

“He’s alive. Potter. And he killed Giovanni Rossi.”

For several moments, Marjorie only stared. Slowly, her deep green eyes hardened like stone. “Of course, the bloody, buggering bastard. Can you tell me how?”

She did, and when she completed the interview, she asked Marjorie to send up Harry Mitchell.

“So we add a bigot who doesn’t like cats or facial hair. The superior shit slides into the profile, too.”

“He uses—or used—women,” Peabody added. “He doesn’t respect or value them. The three Marjorie named that he respected, found interesting, or liked? All men.”

“White men,” Eve said. “And all, with the exception of the interesting Ivan, Brits.”

“Wanker.”

Eve let out a half laugh, and programmed more coffee.

She turned when she heard footsteps, and thought Harry Mitchell didn’t move thief silent like Roarke.

But Ivan Draski stepped into the doorway.

Immediately and instinctively, she shut off her recorder.

“Excuse me. I saw Marjorie and asked if I could come up next. May I speak to you a moment, Lieutenant?”

“My partner has been fully briefed on our previous meeting.”

“Oh.” He blinked his mild blue eyes. “I see. Well then.” He cleared his throat, a harmless-looking man with a round face topped by thinning gray hair. “You very clearly instructed me not to come back to New York, and I feel I agreed, even tacitly gave you my word I would never do so. But I have come back. I took an oath before I gave you my word, and one I couldn’t break.”

Unclasping his hands, he spread his fingers. “I understand you may be compelled to arrest me, and only ask you wait to do so until I’m able to help you find the traitor who killed my friends. I swear to you I will not resist or attempt to escape.”

“Nobody’s going to arrest you. That ship sailed over a year ago. We’re not going to discuss it or refer to it during this on-the-record interview. Understood?”

“Yes, of course. Thank you. I had to come. I traveled under another name, as I felt it necessary for all parties, but I had to come.”

“Also understood. Subject closed, and record on. Please have a seat.”

He sat, folded his hands on the table.

“It may be difficult for you to believe,” he began, “but I’m very sure Conrad Potter is still alive, that he calculated how to simulate his death and escape. And he himself killed Giovanni.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m sure of it. If you’d let me explain how I believe this was accomplished—”

“The ashes buried as Potter are being exhumed and transported to our expert at our lab in New York.”

He blinked again, slowly, then smiled. “I should have expected you to see through his ploy. This is hopeful news.”

He looked, Eve thought, like someone’s uncle who probably raised orchids and had a pair of goldfish. Not at all like a man who’d spent most of his life in covert ops, who invented weapons, one who’d fought, one who’d killed.

“Mr. Draski, this interview will focus on your time with the Underground during the Urbans, and most specifically with the unit known as The Twelve.”

“Yes, whatever I can tell you that helps.”

“Can I get you coffee, tea?”

He looked at Peabody. “Oh, I would love coffee if it’s not too much trouble. Just a bit of cream or milk, if you don’t mind. And could I ask, when it’s appropriate, if I could express my condolences to Giovanni’s family? He made such a happy family, and his loss will be considerable.”

“I’ll let you know. As part of this Underground unit, you worked closely with Conrad Potter.”

“I did, yes. We all did. Synchronization was essential. Trust, essential. While I became trained in combat, in weaponry, my primary role involved science and invention. I had a small, well-equipped lab and work area in our HQ. I often worked and stayed there alone, with my work. I had rudimentary quarters for sleeping when necessary.”

“Potter found your work interesting?”

“Thank you very much,” he said when Peabody brought him coffee. “He did. He would often come in, ask questions, look over my records.”

“What did you make in your lab?”

“Various drugs. To render someone unconscious, to block or blur memory, to cause physical reactions such as nausea, a sudden headache, or other discomforts. Paralytics, poisons, hallucinogens. Medicines as well,” he added. “So what could harm, and what could heal.”

“And he was interested?”

“He was. And in weapons I worked on. Weapons that used sound or light, or both. Weapons such as—very much like the stunners that are now standard issue for your police department. Weapons that can disable, even kill, from a distance, without a projectile and in relative silence.”

“You explained your work to him.”

“I did. I found it satisfying to have someone interested. He was older, you see, and experienced. I felt, well, honored he’d take such an interest in my work.”

Ivan picked up his coffee. “He used me, and I believe he used whatever he learned from me, from my records, from even my musings, on others. What I created was meant to be used for fighting a war, for ending it. Not for personal reasons, personal gains.”

“You spent a lot of time with him. Maybe more one-on-one than the others.”

“He also spent time with Sylvester, and now and then with Leroy, with Alice. They were explosives. And Leroy was also a mechanic. Conrad appeared to want to learn more about explosives, about mechanics. And then, I recall Gio mentioning to me that Conrad had wanted a kind of primer on tech. What was current, possible, what might be possible.”

Shaking his head, he looked down at his hands. “I thought him brilliant. I thought that as I saw him as a knowledge-seeker. I followed his lead, learned more.”

“If you learned more,” Peabody put in, “you’d be a better asset to your team.”

“Yes, thank you, that was my hope. My wish. I was so young. Iris and I were the youngest, barely twenty. I had a little crush on her, but was far too shy to approach her in that way. Then, before long, we became friends. Good friends, too much like family for crushes.”

“When he came into your lab,” Eve continued, “did you only talk about your work?”

“Oh no, he was very, ah, personable with me. Older, as I said, and experienced. With women.” A smile ghosted around his mouth. “I was shy and not experienced. I felt comfortable asking him about women.”

“And what did he say?”

“He advised me to pick one, and have another as what you call a backup? To charm her, flatter her, pretend interest in what she said, to give her trinkets. Nothing of import, just trinkets, and the flattery. If she didn’t warm to that… He meant…”

“I get it.”

“If she didn’t, ah, respond, well, there was always another. And when the first saw another respond, she would respond as well. This method seemed beyond my reach. And I observed Summerset with Alice, and they had between them what I thought it should be. So I asked him before I tried to experiment with Conrad’s method.”

“What did he say?”

“I remember so well, because years later, when I met my wife—before she was my wife—it came back so clearly. ‘Show her who you are,’ is what he told me. ‘Don’t lie or pretend but show her the respect of giving her who you are. And then, if she accepts, show her how you feel.’ This, I found, wasn’t above my reach.

“We had love, Summerset and I found love. We held it too briefly, but we had it. I don’t think Conrad ever did.”

“And besides women?”

“Ah… I enjoyed football—soccer for you. To watch, even to play. But he said it was no more than a brawl, for ruffians and the hooligans. Golf was an elegant game. A gentleman’s game. I also worked with robotics, and he was interested. He helped me with my hand-to-hand, my knife work. I thought of him as a kind of mentor. I was naive.”

“On the night of the explosion, where were you?”

“I was on the prison team, in Whitechapel. We were waiting for the signal—the explosion—to move in. Just before, we heard Alice.”

He paused, pressed his fingers to his lips.

“I still hear her,” he whispered. “We were meant to be radio silent. If the lookouts saw something, they would signal with clicks. Two to take cover, three to abort. But she came through, screaming. Screaming that Shark killed Hawk. To abort, abort. A trap. We could hear her fighting, and Shark, we could hear.

“Then we heard Shark shouting, ‘You’ll die. You crazy bitch.’ And I think we heard running, but I can’t be sure if that’s memory or what we learned after. She said, ‘No other way.’ And Summerset’s name. Then the explosion.”

“You went to his flat.”

“Rabbit, Panther, and Cobra went to his flat.”

“You didn’t?”

“No, only the three. Too many, too much risk. Fox, Chameleon, and I brought Fawn’s body back to HQ. Hawk was too deep in the tunnels, in the rubble to reach, but Panther would alert her handler. Wasp, Magpie, and Mole went on the hunt for Shark.”

Eve wound him back, wound him through. Then, as she had before, let him go.

“Add user,” Peabody said, “with not only a diverse skill set, but diverse knowledge.”