"No, we were sad because she was such a rare and beautiful thing and we knew it wouldn't last, she'd be crushed."

"If she had nice parents, and inner strength, why wouldn't she go on being full of love? Maybe she's one of those lucky people who stay happy all their lives."

"I would like to believe that. But I don't think it's likely."

"You identify with her. I guess I do too, listening to you."

"Did you have a happy childhood, Vronsky?"

"At times," he said elusively. He almost never talked about his personal life.

"I have something important to tell you, Vronsky. A few things happened this week. First, I found out something about my husband. It turns out that people in the army know where he is, but they refuse to tell me."

"Really!" He seemed very surprised.

"You don't happen to know anyone in Intelligence, do you, Vronsky?"

"I'd be happy to know someone with intelligence," he said, smiling wryly.

"Something else happened. I met someone."

"You mean a man? That's good news, Dana."

"It's terrible news! I'm married. And so is he."

"Ah," he said, disappointed.

"I feel I'm getting closer to finding my husband. I just need to find someone in Intelligence who can look up the information. I feel I'm really getting close. What timing!"

"You're in love?"

"No, I love my husband. You can only love one person."

"That hasn't been my experience," Vronsky said, but he wouldn't expand.

"Vronsky, how about today after dinner we go for a walk along the boardwalk?"

"I can't, I promised my sister I'd be home."

"You always have an excuse."

"There's a television show she wants to watch, I sign it for her."

"She's lucky she has you."

"I'm lucky I have her."

"What's she like?"

"Sonya? She has a good sense of humor, she's fun to be with."

"Do you think we should go on having dinner?" I asked him suddenly. I didn't plan to say it, the words just came out on their own. They had a color: deep blue, like the sky at night in the middle of a field.

Vronsky nodded. "I understand," he said.

"I was just asking. Because, you know, you don't really open up to me."

He looked stunned, and very hurt. "I didn't know you felt that way."

"I don't. I didn't mean it."

"I thought you enjoyed our meetings. I enjoy them immensely. But if you're getting bored, that's all right."

"No, I love our meetings. I love our meetings, I don't know what's wrong with me today. I'm just a mess!"

"Let's look at this calmly, Dana. I see I was wrong to take this personally. You've just told me that you feel you might find your husband in the near future. And you've told me that you met someone you're attracted to, though unfortunately he's married. So perhaps we can deduce that you want to simplify your life?"

"What's your first name, Vronsky?"

"Konstantin. Kostya for short."

"You never told me."

"You never asked. But as you know, hardly anyone calls me by that name."

"Isn't that a sort of Christian name?"

"My father was Christian."

"It suits you. You're pretty constant ... Anyhow, it isn't that, Vronsky. It's not that I want to simplify my life-it's not that vague. It's much more specific. I'm worried that Daniel will be jealous. I don't want anything to stand between us."

"That makes perfect sense."

"Even though I made it clear in my interviews that you were just one of the people helping me out, nothing more."

"I remember."

"But he'd be jealous if I went on seeing you. It wouldn't be appropriate."

"Please don't worry, Dana. You're right, of course."

"Thanks, Vronsky. You're very kind. Will you miss me?"

"Of course I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too. Can I kiss you good-bye today? I don't mean a final good-bye-I mean, we'll stay in touch, by phone. But can I kiss you good-bye just for now?"

"We'll see," he said.

"When our meal's over I'll walk you to the car, and I'll come inside with you and kiss you good-bye, do you agree?"

"I have to think about it."

"You have the whole meal to think."

When we were through at the restaurant, I walked him to his car. He'd parked in a nearly empty parking lot down the street. I sat on the passenger's seat and he let me kiss him, and he kissed me back. We knew it was our last time together. Tears ran down my cheeks and we both tasted the salt. Vronsky gave me a tissue and then we resumed kissing. He stroked my hair. "Take care of yourself, Dana. I hope you find whatever you're looking for."

I didn't answer; I was very sad. I got out of the car and watched Vronsky pull out of the parking lot and drive away. He didn't look back.

Only once did I feel that Daniel was hiding something from me.

One day, impulsively, for no reason at all, I kissed his feet. It was the middle of the week, and we were on the sofa watching a dreary film noir we'd rented from the video store. The overloaded symbols and clever shots were making us both sleepy, and suddenly Daniel's bare feet looked so happy that I had to lean over and kiss them.

Daniel didn't say anything, but I could see that something was wrong. He got up and went to the kitchen, opened the fridge door, and stared inside, his mind clearly on something else. Finally he let the door swing shut. He said, "I'm going to the corner store to get pretzels," and left. He made that up, about the pretzels; he just wanted a few minutes to himself.

I had no idea what was going on, and he never told me. It was the only time Daniel completely mystified me.

THURSDAY.

I ARRIVED AT THE INSURANCE OFFICE an hour late the next day because I'd slept in, but no one noticed or minded. I felt like an actor or a mime as I went about my work: I remembered my lines and the things I had to do, but none of it was related to who I was and what I was feeling. I asked my fellow workers whether they knew anyone in Intelligence. One had an uncle in Intelligence but he was living abroad; another had a retired grandfather who had once worked on some very secret project. Neither of those leads sounded very promising. I asked my employer, too, but he looked at me suspiciously and asked why I wanted to know. His body became hot and tense; he was familiar with my views and seemed to think I was planning to penetrate state secrets and sell them to the enemy. I dropped the subject before he fired me.

The day had a misty quality to it, but sprang into sharp focus as soon as I entered my building: a shocking smell had taken over the hallway, as if a ghoul from the pit of hell were slowly dissolving in some invisible corner. I ran into my flat, grabbed a towel, held it against my nose, and knocked on Volvo's door to see whether he knew anything. But he was out, probably shopping with Rosa.

I climbed the stairs and tried Tanya's flat. Tanya opened the door immediately. She looked like a character in an old Italian movie, with her eyes widening above a delicate white handkerchief which she held dramatically to her nose, and with her equally dramatic outfit: tight black lace dress, red high-heeled shoes, shiny red bead necklace.

"We can't figure out what that smell is," she said. "And we're afraid to find out! It's definitely coming from Jacky's place. What if he's hanged himself! What if he's been rotting away for a few days in there? That already happened to me once, with my poor friend Irenie. I'm not taking a chance like that again! I still have nightmares."

"I'm sure he's alive," I said, though I was beginning to feel a little worried myself. I rang Jacky's bell but there was no answer. I reminded myself that this in itself didn't mean anything; Jacky rarely answered the door.

"Jacky, open up, it's me, Dana!" I shouted. "Are you there?"

Jacky hardly ever left his flat. When he did go out, he draped himself with prayer shawls. He was very gaunt and his shaggy gray beard reached his midriff; he seemed to belong in a Grimm story, except that no one in Grimm walked around with prayer shawls over his shoulders. We never saw him eating and it wasn't clear what he lived on. There was no point bringing him meals because he'd arrange the food neatly on the hallway floor, where it would attract every cockroach in the city. Maybe that was his intention, to feed the cockroaches. One could never be sure with Jacky.

I continued pounding on the door. Finally it opened a crack and two heavy-lidded eyes peered out at us.

"I have nothing more to tell anyone," Jacky said. "There's no point asking me. I've told them all I know."

"Jacky, what's that smell coming from your flat?"

"What smell?" He opened the door and Tanya and I both stepped back, as if pushed forcefully away. This was a smell with kinetic powers.

"I don't smell anything," he said.

"How can you not smell anything!" I exclaimed.

"That's what they asked me when they took me in. I told them all I knew."

Despite the heat, Jacky was wearing a heavy sweater and brown corduroy pants. It was hard associating him with the pop star who'd had such an enthusiastic and devoted following, once upon a time. Daniel had often sung his songs. I had a dream about angels, they were carrying you out of the tank, and your uniform grew wings, and I wanted you back.

Jacky returned to the ratty, rust-colored sofa in the center of the room and folded his arms. The sofa was the only piece of furniture that had survived his efforts to remove listening devices from his flat. "I think it's coming from under the sink," he admitted.

I entered his bare flat, opened the cupboard door under the sink, and stifled a scream. There were five dead mice lying on the torn linoleum. They looked like tiny pink fetuses.

"What is it?" Jacky asked.

"Mice. Dead."

"I knew that," Jacky said. "I put poison."

"Well, why didn't you tell us?"

"I thought maybe the government sent you. They have a file on me."

"Yes, I know. Who can blame them?"

"What should we do?" I asked Tanya.

"I'm not touching them," she said. "Find a man."

"Where?"

"They're all over the place," Tanya laughed.

I went downstairs, crossed the street to the City Beach Hotel, and asked to see Coby, the manager. After a few minutes he emerged from his back office. Coby always wore a suit and tie, which I suppose was expected of him, and he was tall and slim, with dark-framed glasses: the cumulative effect was reassuring. He looked like a character in a slick, fast-paced movie about corporate intrigue; he'd be the person who stuck to his principles and didn't give in to temptation.

"Coby?" I said. "I'm a friend of Rafi's."

"You're Dana, of course. I've seen you around. How are you?"

"We have a mouse problem. In Jacky's apartment. There are some dead mice under the sink."

He smiled. "I'll send the guard," he said. He stepped outside and approached Marik. "Go up with this woman, please, and help her get rid of a dead mouse," he said. "You'll need a bag to put it in."

"Thanks, Marik," I said. "I hope you don't mind mice?"

Marik didn't answer, but he got up from his stool and followed me to Jacky's flat.

Jacky looked at Marik calmly and said, "He's a government agent. I can spot them miles away."

"I wish," Marik said. "Then maybe I'd be paid something."