(Noah)
Nobody spoke. The guards stayed where they were and the sedan stayed parked outside the gate. Even the man who'd delivered the message seemed to understand that this wasn't a conversation he controlled.
"Why?" I asked.
The man shrugged once.
"I wasn't told to ask questions."
"That's convenient."
"It usually is."
I looked at him for another second.
Then I looked at the sedan.
Three men. One vehicle. A message delivered in person instead of through a courier. Victor Crane was making a point.
"What kind of meeting?"
The man smiled slightly.
"I don't think I'm important enough to know that."
That answer annoyed me.
Not because I believed it. Because I didn't.
People trusted to walk up to another man's gate and deliver messages usually knew more than they admitted.
Dante
