I wait. There’s something coming, but I don’t have a sense of what it might be yet.
I just know it’s definitely f*****g coming.
He glances back the way we came. I check, too, but there’s nothing there save for more white-skinned birches. When he turns to me again and talks, his voice is hardly a murmur.
“How well do you know Raymond, Matvei?”
The question is like a cold finger running down the back of my neck. “As well as one knows one’s senior partner, I suppose,” I say cautiously. “I’ve worked under him on most of my major matters. He’s been generous with his time.”
“Mm. Generous. That’s one word for it.” He fidgets with the cap of the flask. “Listen, son. I’m going to say something to you, and I’m only going to say it the once, and then we’re going to talk about the birds. Are we c
