the smuggler’s bible


The way Galatine creeps about the house makes Linet nervous. His hands flutter and come to rest on doorknobs, bedposts, knick-knacks. He’s searching, but for what? It’s impossible to know which secret he’s ferreted out.

“You said before that you hadn’t welcomed any visitors since…?”

“June, at least,” she says. “Months.”

“Of course, of course.” Galatine pulls open a cupboard and sighs at its shrill creak.

“Please, just tell me what you’re looking for. I’ll show you.”

“Oh, darling, no.” Galatine purrs. He stalks over the floor, spiraling slowly toward the center of the room. “That would ruin the fun.”