“I’ve run facial recognition software, I’ve run records of missing persons, of doctors worldwide of the same physical description, living or dead. I find nothing. Yet she’s a superbly talented researcher and research writer. I want to meet her.”

Fareed enlarged the most recent available photograph of the woman until it filled the screen.

“Well, nothing’s stopping you,” said Gregory. “I suppose I could arrange it if you like. You’re blessed, my friend. You look human. You’re an entirely credible Anglo-Indian doctor. You’re striking but not threatening. I’m sure you could sit down with her over coffee in Geneva and talk to her. What would be the risk in that?”

Fareed didn’t answer. A strange frisson had come over him. He was staring into her face, looking into her eyes.

Gregory rose from the table and approached the desk. He stood behind Fareed and looked at the monitor.

“Lovely woman,” he said. “Perhaps she’d like to spend eternity with us.”

“That’s all you see?” Fareed asked. He glanced up at Gregory. “You see nothing else?”

“What is there to see?”

Fareed stared at the image. Creamy brown skin, oval face, deep brown eyes, and dark brown hair parted in the middle, drawn back severely from the face yet in a flattering style. Prominent gold streak in the hair running back from the widow’s peak and an expression of almost forbidding intelligence.

“Dr. Karen Rhinehart,” Gregory read from beneath the photograph.

“The name’s fake,” said Fareed. What was it he was feeling? A vague but deep alarm. “It’s somebody else’s name, a doctor who died in a car accident in Germany. The name means nothing.”

“I honestly don’t know how she could have put this over on my company. Are you sure?”

“Completely sure.”

“Meet her if you wish. Should I shoot her an email? Easy enough to do. She could be in Paris tomorrow to meet you.”

“No. I don’t think that is a good idea,” said Fareed.

“Why?”

How could Fareed explain it? He opened his mind deliberately to Gregory, asking him silently to read the subtle feelings that he himself could not identify.

Something not quite right about her. Something formidable. Something to suggest that she might be in her own way equal to us…

Gregory nodded. He rested his hand on Fareed’s shoulder with a familiarity that was unusual.

“Whatever you wish,” he said. “She couldn’t have fooled my personnel office. You don’t understand the caliber of the checking they do on our scientists.”

“Well, she has fooled them,” said Fareed. “And I don’t want to be close to her just yet, not until I have a few more answers.”

Gregory shrugged. “I have to go back to Geneva,” he said. “Perhaps I’ll meet with her myself.”