Pablo and John kept their eyes and weapons fixed on Renard, refusing to be distracted away. Still, there was no mistaking the creak of the bedroom door being opened.

“Everyone,” Renard said with a crack in his voice, “I’d like you to meet Detective Olga Semovich, an exchange officer with the local police.”

“You lie,” John hissed, “Nobody called the police, and you don’t have a sister. I checked your file, an only child.”

“Half true,” corrected Olga in a surprisingly low voice, “but our father was a man of great and varied affections. Renard is my half-brother.” Everyone finally turned to see Olga, a mountain of a woman, easily 130 kg and somewhere just shy of 2 meters tall. She glared and John and Pablo from underneath a heavy uni-brow and over the tops of two enormous Colt .45’s.

“Fo…da,” Izzy pronounced in an involuntary whisper. Even Marguerite looked up from her sobbing.

“You and your cazzate sources,” Pablo muttered.

And Pierre whispered to Margueritte, “Is that a man or a woman?”