Frend knew that his wife was aware of his mistress even if, in typical Viennese fashion, she chose to ignore the fact of her existence. Mina, though, was probably grateful to be spared his advances. She had always found sex distasteful – the mess, the noise, the smells, the fluids. It was why they only had one child: after she had successfully given birth to Pia, Mina had seen no further reason to engage unnecessarily in the mechanics of intercourse. Pia was enough for her, or perhaps regular sexual activity with her husband was too high a price to pay for expanding the family.

They could have divorced, of course, but the process and aftermath would have been socially awkward for both of them. In addition, Mina did not trust Frend to behave generously in any settlement, or not to use his contacts in the legal community to make life as difficult as possible for her, which suggested a degree of acuity on her part. But Mina was also Frend’s only remaining point of contact with their daughter, and fed him tidbits of information about her life, as much to taunt him as anything else. Were they to separate, even this modest line of communication would be severed, and Pia would be rendered a complete stranger to him.

As for Radka, his Bulgarian mistress, Frend was under no illusions about her reasons for being with him. He had bankrolled her boutique in Neubau, and he paid for their expensive weekly dinners in restaurants where the minimalism of the décor reflected the paucity of food on the plates. In return, he received from her the sexual favors denied him by his wife, and, equally importantly, enjoyed conversations with an element of human warmth to them. A private investigator hired by Frend had assured him that Radka appeared to be faithful to him, although whether out of genuine affection or a reluctance to endanger her financial position was unclear.

The display screens indicated that the Belgrade flight was now boarding. With what might have seemed like a degree of resignation, Frend unfolded himself from the chair and placed his newspaper in his overnight bag. In the past he had enjoyed his intermittent visits to the Serbian capital, the food being some of the best in Eastern Europe thanks to the enduring culinary influence of the Turks. This trip, though, was more problematic, and carried with it certain risks. He was representing the Vuksans, and the Vuksans were currently personae non gratae in Serbia. Despite this, a formal channel of communication had to be opened following the death of Nikola Musulin. The Vuksans wanted – needed – to return home. It was Frend’s task to discover the price of this repatriation.