Clement sets his attaché case down in yet another hotel room just across town from where he's staying in Berlin. This tango has grown familiar and, thankfully, predictable. He hangs his waistcoat next to the familiar fur-lined leather jacket that first drew him to the other man.
He automatically removes his shoes at the door and lines them up neatly, as required by his host. Never a hair out of place with this one. Clement respects him and his discipline; it's one of the main reasons he's willing to keep playing what he knows is an ultimately fruitless game. They're completely incompatible, but he's a familiar face in new, strange, and often hostile environments. On the nights they spend together, whenever they're in the same city, Clement can focus on something other than murder and heartbreak. While he can never be sure—his companion is never forthcoming with his feelings—he imagines the agent is in a similar mindset. It is a small comfort in a harsh world.
Clement always goes to Long's hotel as a sign of respect. It's his way of recognizing the agent's willingness to divulge Interpol secrets to an American diplomat. He knows this is meaningful to Long, even if neither of them considers their arrangement more than one of convenience. They both have needs; they know feelings get in the way of their work, and they will need to keep relying on each other in that work, apparently, as fate would have it.
Pursuing this on any...