He set a hand to the catch and opened the door. Dizzy was already running along the wall to greet him, his tail with that old familiar crook.
“Here,” Claire said, fishing in her bag. “You’d better have these.” She dropped the keys in his hand, the agency tag still attached. “I’ll get someone round tomorrow, take the board down.”
“Thanks.”
He stood a shade anxiously on the pavement, looking down.
“’Night,” Claire said, raising her hand. She leaned across the front seat and watched him walk towards the door, the cat fishtailing in and out between his legs.
“I’ll give you a ring some time,” Claire called.
“Do that.” Resnick waved back, unlocked the door and let Dizzy into the house. Just before she drove off, Claire saw him stoop towards the mat and pick something up, an envelope. The way he looked at it, she hoped it wasn’t unwelcome news. She turned the car around and headed back towards the main road, towards the city, and by then Resnick’s door was closed and he was back inside his house.