A single thumbnail opened. Him again, the one she’d seen in the Fiat on Valencia, who’d then brought the pillow full of hundreds to Joe-Eddy’s. "Sevrin," Eunice said. "Severin but minus the second e ." Seen now in what might be a passport photo, clinically unsmiling. Head almost shaven, with a tight little goatee she didn’t remember him having. "He’s in the muffler shop, to pick you up." The elevator was slowing. The thumbnail blinked out.