“You were very collected in front of De Vries.” “I was going to tell you the same thing.” “You wanted to shoot me then, but you couldn’t be sure what De Vries would do. Of course, I had the same dilemma.” McGrady could smell the apricot spirits in the glass next to him. Schnapps. Sweet and sharp. The room was nicely kept, and well appointed. A rug on the floor. A whitewashed fireplace. Bookshelves. “No,” McGrady said. “Your dilemma was different. Because you wouldn’t have minded killing De Vries. Except that if you’d done it there, it would make it hard to go back to the consulate.
