‘You thought exactly what I’d have thought in your shoes,’ Carol said gently. She felt for Petra, knowing how discouraged she would have been in the same position. On the spur of the moment, she made a decision. ‘Look, leave this with me. I saw Tony only a few days ago, and I’ve a feeling he just might take the bait. He’s not enjoying the quiet life as much as he’d hoped. This could intrigue him enough to draw him back into combat. Meanwhile, get Marijke to set the official ball rolling. The sooner the better. And I’ll do what I can to help.’

‘I think you have enough to be worried about without this,’ Petra said, half-hearted.

‘It’ll give me something to keep me grounded in who I really am,’ Carol said. ‘Nothing like reality to beat Zelig’s Syndrome.’

So now she had to keep her promise to Petra. She had to find the words that would entice Tony to give his help. She had the feeling she was kicking at a half-open door, but it would still take all her powers of persuasion. Carol walked through to the kitchenette and opened a bottle of red wine. Time for a little Dutch courage. First, she had to e-mail Tony. Then she had to prepare for tomorrow, when she would finally come face to face with Tadeusz Radecki.

Chapter 20

20

Tony stretched his arms out, feeling the crack of joints in his neck and shoulders. He was getting too old to spend the evening hunched over a computer screen. But it was as good a way as any to escape from the complicated reaction the news about Vance had provoked in him. He’d unplugged the phone and immersed himself in work, avoiding thought and journalists alike.

He closed down the file he’d been reading, the draft dissertation of one of his graduate students. It wasn’t a bad piece of work, although the theories ran ahead of the evidence in a couple of crucial places. He’d have to take a stern line with her in their next supervision session. She needed to iron out these problems now, before they became too entrenched to unpick easily.

Before he switched off, he crossed to his communications program and flicked the button to send and receive all mail. It was always worth a late-night mailbox check; he might be heading for bed, but much of America was still in the middle of the working day, and he was in regular touch with several friends and colleagues on the other side of the Atlantic.

Tonight, there was a single message. He activated the encryption software that Carol’s brother had sent him and opened her e-mail.

Hi, Tony,