The following day brought a damp drizzle that turned Amsterdam metallic. The canals looked like sheets of hammered pewter under a low, featureless sky. Lucas woke early, the faint echo of last night’s laugh still lingering in his ears like a half-remembered song. He tried to convince himself the figure in the red coat had been a trick of lamplight on rain, a shadow thrown by a passing cyclist or a late-night walker.
