Page 63 of The Best Trick

“But it was kill or be killed!” I said, feeling upset on Thor’s behalf. “Thor saved both of your lives, not to mention his own. It was self-defense and defense of you two! Why should he feel guilty?”

“You’re preaching to the choir, sister,” Odin said. “He had no choice, but deep down inside him, it doesn’t matter. You cannot reason with those deep-down parts of a man. Thor took a life, and it sits with him hard. If he stops moving, stops healing, he’s forced to remember. Forced to come face-to-face with the reality that he took a life. So now he turns to me to meet that need. Like healing me would heal him. I won’t be used by him. I won’t be that for him.” He swirled the ice in his drink. “I can’t be that for him.”

This stunned me, but it had the ring of truth. Thor’s reckless wild-card phases—they never truly did make sense.

“You think there’s anything we can do?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Odin said. “He needs to stop running from it. For starters.”

I wanted to talk more about it, but Alfred was making his way through the crowd toward us, looking extra squat and bulky in a plaid sports jacket. He took the empty seat. “What's this for?” he asked, nodding at the dogs on velvet.

“None of your business,” Odin said. “Let’s talk about Wilson. We’re eager to meet with him.”

“First things first,” Alfred said. “I need some indication that you've ruled out Don Pedro. I'm not just going to have you talking to Wilson for no reason.”

“You need to stop telling us how to do our jobs and give us access to all the clues that exist. That includes meeting with Wilson. Tomorrow, if possible,” Odin said.

“I said you could ask him questions, not meet with him,” Alfred said.

“We want to see him. You know it's more effective to question a person when you can actually see that person,” Odin said.

“I can't let you meet with him. You'll give me your questions, and I will relay them to Wilson.”

“What? We can't even Zoom? At the very least we'd want to Zoom,” Odin said.

“This is the best we can do,” Alfred said.

“Why are we having this conversation, then?” Odin asked.

“Yeah, this could’ve happened via text,” I said.

Alfred was looking at the dogs-playing-pool painting again. “Why are you carrying that thing around?”

“None of your business,” I said.

Alfred frowned. “You carrying it around in relation to the case?”

I shrugged. “That’s proprietary.”

He frowned even harder. “There’s a German shepherd in the picture.”

“Our methods are our methods,” Odin said. “We want to see Wilson.”

Alfred kept staring at the picture. What was he thinking?

“You want us to solve this?” Odin asked.

“Look, even I don't get to talk directly to Wilson,” Alfred said. “This is one of the most sensitive cases my office has conducted in a long time. We're talking in person because of that sensitivity.”

I sighed. Evasion much?

Odin drained his scotch, set down the glass, and stood. “We're outta here,” he announced. I slammed my wine spritzer and grabbed the picture.

“I don’t see why you need to talk directly to Wilson,” Alfred said.

“You need to stop questioning our methods and stop wasting ourfucking-gtime.” He headed out toward the back exit. I followed close behind him.

“Wait!” The idea hit me as soon as we were out on the sidewalk.

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