Morini read the letter three times. With a heavy heart, he thought how wrong Norton was when she said her love and her ex-husband and everything they’d been through were behind her. Nothing is ever behind us. •

He’s grateful for Marlowe. Not just for the shirts and shoes. There was a long time before Marlowe where everything was gloom and horror. One war after another, charging around on horseback. Mud and murder and mad kings. Henries and Edwards and Richards, and all the others. It all felt pointless, endless, hopeless. Eternal warriors, questing about

The knife is the weapon of the fugitive, the assassin, the secret courier, the turncoat—in short, the spy.