‘The monitor is for your own safety. Heart rate, blood pressure, and sleeping patterns are transmitted electronically to your personal medical file. And the clothing… Is it not to your liking? In the many years I’ve been running this clinic, I’ve found that it’s easier for our patients to access their true selves when the need to cover and adorn their bodies is taken out of the equation. So much of our energy goes into the presentation we create for public view, wouldn’t you agree? Soon, you’ll appreciate the chance to strip all that away. The only personal item we allow patients to wear during their stay is their wedding ring.’ Gessen nodded at the gold signet ring on Vidor’s left hand. ‘Though I understand in your case…?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘I only mention it because you didn’t provide us with an emergency contact.’

Vidor stiffened.

Gessen could imagine his thoughts, that neither his marital status, nor the provenance of his ring was anyone’s business.

‘Since I feel perfectly fine,’ Vidor said, in a clipped voice, ‘when will I be discharged? With a department to manage and a lab to run, I don’t have time to faff about in the Swiss mountains.’

As the silence grew, Gessen decided to call his bluff. ‘If you’re not satisfied with our services, Professor Kiraly, you’re of course free to go at any time.’ He abruptly stood. ‘I’ll have our admissions coordinator arrange for a car to take you to Spiez. From there, you can get a direct train to Bern or Geneva.’

‘I’m free to go?’ Vidor’s face brightened.

‘You have always been free to leave.’ In an attitude of dismissal, Gessen turned to pull a binder from the shelf.

‘In that case, I’ll be ready in thirty minutes.’

The sky had grown steadily darker, and a thunderclap punctuated the stillness. Fat raindrops clattered against the glass like a fistful of stones. Gessen hurried to shut the window. He’d been too intent on registering the nuances of Vidor’s facial tics to notice the change in the weather.

‘Before you go, you should know, however, that while you’re free to leave my clinic, resuming your old life will not be simple.’ He drew close to the glass to track the storm’s path as it swept across the valley. Rain pummelled the hills, and the wind thrashed the pines. ‘In all likelihood you’ll be charged with a serious crime,’ Gessen said, keeping his back turned. ‘Assault and battery, at the very least.’

He pivoted and caught the look of confusion on Vidor’s face. In time, Gessen would have to reveal the extent of the bad news. But if Vidor knew that he’d killed the man in Copenhagen, before Gessen could properly evaluate his case, he might be tempted to fake symptoms of psychosis as a means of claiming diminished responsibility.