That name bothered him.

He knew he had heard it before, but never in the Russian tongue.

It might be that the chap had been spoofing Kitty.

Still, he had also called himself Hawksley.
The smoke thickened; there were frequent flares of matches.

One by one Cutty discarded the photographs, dropping them on the floor beside his chair, his mind boring this way and that for a solution.