Chapter OneMOSCOW, NOVEMBER
JJ hesitated at the door. He could hear a voice in the room and stopped to listen but realized after just a few seconds that Bostridge was talking to a prostitute. He was talking his way through putting on a condom, the strange reassuring tones middle-aged men seemed to fall into when they were in bed with young women, all guilt and denial and embarrassment.
So much for the information. Viner had stressed one thing above all about Bostridge, that he was a real family man, never played away from home, that he'd definitely be on his own at that time of the evening. And Viner of all people...