"Jovan Etienne." Said the name, sliding off the earlier want like forgotten dust, like he hadn't been going back to those letters every two point five seconds the whole of reading this record. Like he could scare those words into meaning something. Giving him something. More than those letters. More than these sentences and red tape records that didn't say where or how.

"File says he worked for the Russians as a computer programmer in SVR." Back when it was written. Which didn't say how he got here. Being Hesse's newest lackey, and a trespasser in his father's house, more than likely being used to pinpoint Anton than anything to do with his dad. "He was here when my father was murdered."

But that was't a hard question either. The why of the how. Money talked. A lot louder than morals for most of this messed up world. Lines running and re-running in Steve's head as he was dragging Danny into what he knew. The details he's found on the house that hadn't been recorded previous to his own breaking and enterting, or the take over of the whole place. And the case. And Danny.

"I found his palm prints in the study." Steve said looking toward that area, and then this one. "Partial boot prints in here."