THE OLD VICARAGE, CHENIES, U.K.

TUESDAY, JULY 23, 2013, 6:04 P.M. BST

“Hello, Pia.”

Berman stood in the doorway of Pia’s underground cell and looked at her lying on a dirty, bare mattress staring at the ceiling. He could see that she was chained to a ring secured to the brick wall. She looked very small and defenseless, and with her broken arm he knew how vulnerable she was. But this was the woman who had taunted and humiliated him and put what was to be his crowning life’s achievement in jeopardy, and he felt that by rights he should be very angry with her. He certainly had been angry in Boulder the other night. He wasn’t used to being toyed with and dominated, in any sense of the word. It wouldn’t be unjustified for him to exact some revenge on this woman, perhaps even the ultimate revenge.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Berman asked.

As his anger burned, Berman realized he wanted a reaction from Pia, any reaction. Again he was flustered by the mixture of frustration and desire that he was experiencing. He had never felt anything like it, or so he told himself. Despite all the evidence that he could see before him of a defenseless woman, he was as nervous as if he were the prisoner. In a strange, irrational way he almost believed that Pia could have the upper hand over him if she so chose. He knew such an idea was ridiculous, but that was how he felt. Berman moved into the room, and the Chinese guard pulled the door shut behind him and locked it. It was better now that the guard wasn’t watching him, but still Berman was uncomfortable.

“Pia, I’m sorry it has come to this, but you must understand you left us with no choice. You came to my house and tricked me. And it wasn’t the first time. I started to think I was more than just drunk that first time you came, and eventually I figured out what you had done, but I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. I was hoping that on Sunday your motivation was more sincere, but I now realize it was all a charade so you could photograph my eyes for you to trespass onto Nano property.”

Berman paused, but there was no visible reaction from Pia.

“You used the photographs to gain access to a restricted area and you stole a sample of blood from a sensitive physiological preparation. You had also obtained a blood sample from a previous occasion that Nano had taken the time and effort to obtain a court order to confiscate. We also know you used Nano equipment unauthorized to examine these samples. These are very serious matters.”

“Mengele,” said Pia, very quietly.

“I’m sorry, Pia, I didn’t catch that.”

“Do you know who Josef Mengele was?”