Her plan began to take form.

There was a chance that either The Nose or Olga Sarapenko was alone in the building. The charade of a surveillance operation had been for her benefit. No … that wasn’t right. There had been another point to the exercise: Vitrenko had suspected betrayal and had put Molokov under electronic surveillance. Molokov had been marked for death long before Maria had entered the picture. Vitrenko had said that Buslenko’s mission had been genuine but had been betrayed. Perhaps Olga Sarapenko really had been part of the operation.

She had seen no other guard. When Sarapenko or The Nose had brought food there had been no sounds of activity outside when the door had been opened. The worst case might be that The Nose would be out there when Sarapenko came in. Maria played and replayed scenarios in her head, running through all the possible ways she could take Sarapenko down. But they would be ready for almost every scenario. Sarapenko or The Nose would anticipate her hiding beside the door, pretending to be ill or dead, or her launching a sudden attack. She had to think of the extraordinary, the unexpected. It would have to be when Olga Sarapenko came in with the meal. Maria was bitterly aware of the irony that food had been the one thing she had avoided and now its delivery offered her the only chance of survival. She thought about all the times she had made herself vomit to void her body of food. How she had perfected the technique. It was then that the idea started to take shape.

She reckoned she would have about four or five hours until the next meal. Time that she had to spend wisely.

2.

Fabel blinked at the light that cut slices across the room from between the blinds. His head hurt and his mouth felt thick and furry. He eased himself up onto his elbows. He was alone in a wide, low bed. There was the smell of coffee in the air, but a richer, darker aroma than he was used to. He stared at the poster on the wall opposite him. It was of a landscape that looked as if it belonged to another planet: slender rock towers capped with darker conical stone. A setting or rising sun had painted the towers red-gold and windows had been carved into some, giving the impression that elves or some alien race lived in them.

‘Cappadocia,’ said Tansu as she came in from the kitchen. She was wearing a silk robe which clung to her curves. ‘The Fairy Chimneys. You ever been to Turkey?’ She sat on the edge of the bed and handed him a coffee.

‘Thanks,’ said Fabel. ‘No … I’ve never been. Listen, Tansu …’

She smiled and held her fingers to his lips. ‘Drink your coffee. You’ll feel better. Hangover?’

‘A little … I’m not used to drinking so much.’