11:15 A.M. When she put the phone down, Leng didn’t know what to do next. She had been waiting all morning for a chance to sneak out, and she did so as soon as Ku left, telling the others that she wanted to go for a walk in the gardens. She stood by the flower beds, gazing at a white camellia that had bloomed too late and was shriveling up in the July sun. She thought she saw a shadow at an upstairs window, and froze, terrified. She was stalling. The guard was stationed at the gate on West Avenue Joffre, at the other end of the path, so there was no one by the door. The only words she could make out on the bronze plate next to it were 1230 GRESHAM APARTMENTS. She walked casually along the concrete edge of the flower bed, as if she were following a butterfly. She could feel someone looking at her. Standing at the window, you could see the whole garden without even craning your neck. But soon she was standing inside Kovsk, a Russian-owned luxury women’s fashion store just outside the apartment building.
