He had not slept in the apartment above his office the night before, but had elected to stay at a small hotel in Hackengasse. Frend tended to dismiss talk of sixth senses or bad feelings, but as he approached his office building after leaving Zivco Ilić and the girl, he had spotted a car parked within sight of the entrance, and observed, from behind, two men in the front seats. The driver was entirely concealed by shadow, and Frend could see only the side of the passenger’s face: dark hair, a beard, and a sallow complexion accentuated by a white dress shirt buttoned to the neck. Spiridon Vuksan, Frend thought, would have described him as a Turk. The passenger was smoking a cigarette, which he finished while Frend watched. The butt was dropped from the open window to the street below, where it came to rest near three others. Almost immediately, Frend had experienced the strongest urge to run, but controlled himself sufficiently to retreat round the corner and walk to the nearest U-Bahn station, all the time glancing over his shoulder, anticipating the sight of the bearded man in pursuit; but he was not followed and made it onto the train without incident.

Once he had arrived at the hotel, he called his wife and stressed to her again the importance of not returning home or using her credit and debit cards until the current crisis was dealt with. Then, because he wanted to hear her voice, he tried his daughter’s cell phone. It went straight to messaging. She usually simply rejected the incoming call if she recognized his number. Once every year or two, she might connect to speak a few monosyllables to him in person.

But not that evening.

Finally, he had contacted Radka, his mistress. She wanted to know where he was. He told her he was staying at a hotel, although he did not share the name with her. She offered to join him. He was tempted to say yes, if only for the company – his sexual appetite had diminished in inverse proportion to the escalation of the Vuksan problem – but decided it would be better if they were to remain apart for the time being. He asked about any suspicious activity, or any odd inquiries made concerning him, but she could recall none. He advised her to lock up the shop for a few days, or leave it in the care of her assistant, Sophia, but Radka only laughed and informed him that Sophia would have the business run into the ground within twenty-four hours, and what was he so worried about anyway?