When Officer Müller met his gaze, it was easy for Gessen to read her thoughts: Another playground for the idle rich. Wouldn’t we all like to have such problems? But he had no desire to explain that his clinic wasn’t some upscale health resort for the wealthy bored. If they were interested in learning more about the history and philosophy of Les Hirondelles, they were welcome to pick up a brochure on the way out.

Officer Schulz cleared his throat. ‘We understand that Mr Mahmoud had a private bodyguard who was posing as one of the staff.’

Gessen frowned. Who would have told them that? Were they already in contact with the family?

Müller cut in smoothly. ‘We’d like to speak to him, as well as your head of Security.’

‘Unfortunately, that will be difficult.’

The two officers stared at him.

‘Our Security manager will be happy to speak with you, of course, but Mr Mahmoud’s bodyguard has unfortunately vanished. No one’s seen him since Ismail’s body was found.’

This information seemed to animate Schulz. But Officer Müller didn’t bat an eye. Instead they asked a few more questions. Did he think Mr Mahmoud could have taken his own life? Did he have any disputes or altercations with the other patients, or ever threaten to hurt anyone? The questions seemed routine, but a cold sweat soaked the skin under Gessen’s shirt. The poor boy was dead. Accident or suicide, what did it matter now? Schulz cut in with a sharp tone that brought him up short.

‘There’s a third possibility.’ His pen clattered on the table. ‘He was murdered.’

Murdered? Gessen had shied away from considering that option, finding it unthinkable at first. Though of course it was possible. Even Walter Keller, as unruffled as they come, had broached the idea. Who would do such a thing, the bodyguard? ‘What would be the motive?’

‘Animosity, prejudice? A tussle over a woman, perhaps?’

Gessen shook his head. There was no woman who might fit the profile. Except, perhaps, for Libby. And who would be fighting Ismail for her attentions? The idea was ludicrous.

‘He was in love with a girl in England.’

Office Müller broke in smoothly. ‘Regardless, to get a full picture of the case, we’ll need to speak to the staff. And the other patients, of course.’

And then there were five. The last thing his patients needed in their fragile states was to be grilled by the police about a possible murder. A bright young man whom nearly everyone seemed to like. He’d have Ursula put together the list of names, though one of them would have to be present during the questioning.