Once he was back at his flat, he poured a glass of whiskey and collapsed on the couch. His jacket was slung over the back of the sofa, his pistol haphazardly tossed on the table, and his phone discarded next to it. Theo pulled the crumpled-up paper out of his pocket and let his eyes wander a few times over the number scrawled there before dropping it to the table as well.