At 10.45 that evening Latto and Sylvia Koning climbed the steps from the street up towards Latto’s room in the Ocean View Motel. They had had dinner at Casey’s, talking about films and books they liked, places they had visited, people they knew – everything, thought Latto, except the last two days. It had been a lovely evening, but Latto couldn’t help thinking about what Martinez had said. Martinez must be wrong, he thought. Koning couldn’t know anything about what was going on.