Richard Walker opened the door himself.
Which meant he'd seen them coming — either through the residence's security system or through instinct, the particular alertness of a man who had spent forty years reading situations before they announced themselves.
He looked at Kendrick.
Then at Damian.
Then back at Kendrick.
"Come in," he said.
The study again.
The same desk. The same garden visible through the window. The same chairs angled toward the view.
This time Damian sat down.
Kendrick sat beside him.
Richard took the chair across from them both — not his usual position to the right, the power-adjacent one. Directly across. Equal geometry.
Damian noted it.
"You funded a research institution," Kendrick said. No preamble. "Twenty years ago. When you began building the documentation file."
"Yes," Richard said.
"What was the institution's name."
A pause.
