Gessen held up his hands and backed away. When he could no longer see the house through the trees, he turned and hurried to the main building, where he’d set up a situation room to deal with events as they unfolded. Two men from a private security company were positioned at the train station in the village. They’d been instructed to dog Vidor’s movements, but not move in unless Hélène’s safety could be assured. It was a tricky situation and getting Hélène free would be difficult. The best course, though he hated to do it, might be to allow Vidor to travel all the way to Cambridge, as requested, with one of the security team following behind them. Vidor wouldn’t have seen the man before, which lessened the chance he would suspect he was being followed. Regardless, Vidor’s plan was absurd. He must know that Scotland Yard would swoop in the moment Hélène was safe. If he were thinking rationally, that is, and it was difficult to believe he was. Or even to say who, exactly, was behind such an ill-conceived idea, that it would be possible to return to the UK and continue his life as if nothing had happened. Whether it was Vidor or Malik being driven by such delusions, he was heading towards a cliff.

* * *

Vidor pressed his eye against the peephole in the shutters. There was no one in sight, though he didn’t trust Gessen’s word that the place wasn’t surrounded. How could he believe the man who’d kidnapped him from a hospital in Copenhagen? A man who’d manipulated his thoughts and tried to convince him he was a dangerous killer. And that he wasn’t even Vidor Kiraly, but someone else. As soon as he was safely home in Cambridge, he would report Gessen to whatever medical board oversaw his activities. All this time, Gessen had been pulling the strings, but now Vidor had the upper hand.

Next to him, Hélène began to shake. Tremors ran through her body like electric shocks and her breath was coming fast. He was sorry to have frightened her, but there was no other way.