‘Who in the name of heaven is this Leonardo? And why did he kiss you?’ ‘He was an Italian soldier, and he wanted to kiss me,’ Melusine said, goaded. She had found the location of his firm on the internet on a library computer, tracing him to this place in New York where he practiced criminal law. There was already a score or more of people there, some standing up and talking together, others seated in chairs ranged along the wall.
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