Izz sent us a threatening note, saying he knew we were behind the whole scheme and he wouldn’t rest until we were convicted. He said he’d worked too hard to allow the likes of us to interfere with his rising to senator.”

The Smiths were incredible liars.

I knew I shouldn’t have been surprised; they’d been lying to the entire world for centuries, but still. Mrs. Smith seemed so innocent, so moral. She made everything sound sincere. Her husband didn’t talk much so the things he did say always carried weight. Combined, they were undeniably convincing.

Mrs. Smith finished her tale of woe with a plea for help. “I know the last time we parted was as enemies, but we come to you now desperate for help against an even greater foe. If you help us, we will owe you a debt of gratitude for the rest of eternity.”

“Oh, honey, don’t you worry. We’ll take care of it.” A light slapping sound followed, as if Mrs. Velazquez were patting her friend on the knee. “Fadele is at work but he’ll be back this evening and we’ll talk. I’m sure he can get you on a ship to China within the week.”

“Thank you so much, Nij.”

“I know we have disagreed with you and your ways in the past,” Mr. Smith said, “and have allowed our fear to keep us apart for many years, but when we sensed you on our way out of the state, Ashki convinced me we had to try contacting you. Even after everything that’s happened, you truly are the only friends we have left.”

“I completely understand,” Mrs. Velazquez said. “I’m sure we would’ve done the same if the roles had been reversed.” But there was a syrupy, condescending feel to her words, like she was lying to a pair of children she was convinced were too simple to see through her. “Where are you staying?”

The Smiths gave them the name of a nearby hotel. Mrs. Velazquez promised she and her husband would be in contact soon.

Before the meeting was over, Mr. Smith asked to use the bathroom. Mrs. Velazquez directed him before striking up an innocent conversation with Mrs. Smith about what they’d been up to. Vanessa had told Mr. Smith to plant the bug in a study or in the master bedroom, behind a picture frame or some other piece of furniture that wouldn’t be moved for a long time. He was new to this but he was competent; he’d pick a good spot. I listened to the ladies exchange a story or two about their travels before Mr. Smith rejoined them.

Mrs. Velazquez had just finished spouting some lie about her husband getting an education and starting a legitimate trading business, which was what had supposedly brought them to Washington. Mrs. Smith readily congratulated them. Mr. Smith sounded ecstatic.

“That’s wonderful news! I’d love to talk to him about his business some more.”

“I’m sure he’d love to tell you all about it. Keep your chin up, my friends. Fadele will save the day.” Mrs. Velazquez adopted the sugary baby talk at the end there.

The Smiths ignored her patronizing and simply thanked her again. They had arrived in a rental car; the plan was for them to take it all the way back to the hotel, just in case they were followed.

“All right,” Vanessa murmured, leaning back in her chair. “Settle in, Charlie. This could take a while.”

◆◆◆

“It’s the language of our people,” Angela said with a note of nostalgia.

Vanessa paused the recording and glanced at me. That’s what we’d figured. After a full twenty-four hours on surveillance, we’d managed to learn absolutely nothing from the conversations the bug was transmitting because Mr. and Mrs. Velazquez had been careful only to speak in their native dialect.

I leaned closer to the phone. “So you can understand it?”

“Of course.”

“None of our language guys back at the precinct could make sense of it. Would you mind translating for us?”

“I can do that, yes.”

“Thank you.” Vanessa unlocked her tablet and got ready to take notes.

It was too risky to be seen with the Smiths now that they were on the Velazquezes’ radar so we each stayed in our own hotels. The rest of our team was still in position in the Velazquezes’ neighborhood. All the members took turns napping, eating, and showering in the rooms we’d booked. I was still glad I was being included in all of this but, man, did I miss the peace and quiet of my basement apartment.

I munched on my breakfast burrito as quietly as I could while Vanessa played the audio for the Smiths. The voices of Mr. and Mrs. Velazquez resumed, murmuring out of the laptop’s speakers. Then they both laughed.

“They’re making fun of us,” Angela said with a note of irritation. “Now they’re discussing the best way to handle us. They didn’t anticipate our involvement. They didn’t think we would come to them for help. They can’t decide if the Wards are stupid or smart for putting the police on our trail. Now they’re discussing...a lizard?”

I swallowed before I was ready just so that I could say, “It has to be the Salamander,” and then immediately regretted it. I coughed into my arm.

Vanessa paused the recording with a tap of her finger. “Angela, I’m starting the audio a few seconds back. Please, be as precise as possible. This may be our only lead.”

“Wait,” Angela said, “I have a call on the other line.”

“Ignore it,” Vanessa said. “This is too important.”

“No, it could be them. Other than you, they’re the only ones who know where we are.”

“All right. Keep up the worried act. If they insist on meeting, set it up in a public place,” Vanessa said.

“Very well.” Angela must’ve switched lines then because there was nothing but static on the other end.

I gulped down some juice to get rid of the stinging in my throat. That’s what I got for being too eager.

“You okay?” Vanessa asked, finally looking away from the phone.

“Yeah.”

She evaluated me for a moment.

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