Izzy pulled Pablo into the apartment, looking around to see that Marguerite was out of sight.

“Is she gone?” Pablo said smoothly in his rich Italian accent.

“Sim, yes,” Izzy said quietly, peeking through the slit in the door before shutting it. Izzy busied herself by tidying up the flat, which was a disarray of loose papers, and miscellaneous religious kitsch.

“So Bella, what are you going to tell your Officer Pablo today?” he purred, grabbing Izzy by the waist and pulling her into him. She turned around to him, and in a sweet, musky voice she replied.

“Nothing Pablo, darling. Nada.”

“You lie, Bella, don’t lie to Pablo. I am an officer! I uphold the law…” he said harshly as he grabbed Izzy and shook her by the arms.

“Maybe you are an officer in Italy, but here you are just a spy,” Izzy said, spitting on the ground.

“I am a detective! And I am going to find that Marco! You are going to have to cooperate! ” He shouted angrily, storming out of the flat and slamming the door.