The light changed and the crowd spilled off the curb and cascaded across the great open spaces toward the station.

Seth flexed his legs and quickly outpaced the main body of the crowd, gaining the noisy, crowded interior of the central station far ahead of them. He walked past the newspaper stand to the train-schedule-covered kiosks with their yellow and white posters of arrivals and departures. He quickly found the schedule for the line to the airport. There was a train leaving in five minutes. Seth noted the track number and turned away from the kiosk.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the stranger pretending to look through the paperback novels at the newsstand.

Seth pushed his way through the crowds to the ticket window and purchased his ticket The man with the insane eyes stood in at the rear of the next ticket line. Overhead, trains rumbled and thundered, shaking the concrete floor beneath his feet.

When Seth got to the platform, it was sparsely scattered with people, mostly accompanied by suitcases. He walked down to the end of the platform and stopped. The clock overhead said 1:20, but there was no train. Unusual. Dutch trains were almost always prompt

Seth turned to walk back toward the other end of the platform when he saw his shadow come up the stairs. The stranger turned away quickly and tried to feign disinterest But it didn’t work. Either the man was inept or his superiors wanted Seth to know he was being followed.

Moments later, the Schiphol train rumbled into the station and groaned to a halt. It lurched once and then loosed a great steaming sigh before the doors opened. Out poured a parade of weary faces, sitting atop bodies carrying pieces of luggage. The early afternoon flights from America had arrived.

Seth stepped aboard and looked around. The man with the insane eyes had already gotten on. A professional would have waited until the last minute to get on.

The doors clunked shut and the train gathered speed. Seth glanced out the windows as the platform slowly slid away Then suddenly they were back in the brilliant sunlight, snaking along between the harbor and the Oosterdok.

The train made its way southeast through a mostly industrial quarter, then gently curved to the south. They passed the Amstel station and headed across the open polders. Seth felt the palms of his hands tingle as he thought of the slim man with the insane eyes in the next car. What connection did he have with Zoe, with the deaths in Los Angeles? A brief shadow of doubt passed behind his eyes as he wondered if he were doing the right thing. Should he have waited for Stratton? Seth had never been good at waiting.

The train slowed as it entered Amstelveen, a suburb just south of Amsterdam that was separated from the airport by a massive wooded parkland called the Amsterdamse Bos. Ridgeway got out of the car with a half dozen others who were not headed for the airport. He did not bother to look around. He knew the man with the insane eyes would be behind somewhere.