Seated beside him in business class, Cooper made a series of phone calls, then nursed a Bloody Mary.The clatter of the beverage cart awoke Kilkenny. He yawned, checked his watch, and looked out the oval window. The sky was clear and dark; the Atlantic spread out calmly beneath them, shimmering under the light of a gibbous moon.‘How are you feeling?’ Cooper asked as he traded his empty glass for a full one.‘Like I could use another day in the sack. How about you?’‘I’ll sleep on the flight back.’‘Would you like something to drink?’ the flight attendant asked.‘An orange juice,’ Kilkenny replied, his mouth thick, as if it were packed with wet cotton.After Kilkenny received his drink and a couple of packages of peanuts, the flight attendant moved on.‘Bart, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.’‘Go ahead.’‘You mentioned that after Wolff’s body was found, you ran a background check on him. Why?’‘Professional curiosity, mainly. Wolff worked for the Germans during the Second World War.
