"I don’t," she said, "yet, though I’ve suspicions." Taking a crisp white handkerchief from an inside breast pocket, she wiped her thumb and forefinger. "This business with al-Habib is fully as dull as its pretentious exoticism, Mr. Netherton. We’re on the same page, there. Real estate, recycled plastic, money. Whoever’s gained entrance to Lev’s stub is likely involved with that. A more interesting question, of course, being how they came to be admitted."