Radovan stood to greet her, and they hugged awkwardly while exchanging a single, fleeting kiss on the cheek. Her perfume smelled expensive and her coat looked like it might have come from one of the more exclusive racks in Burggasse 24 itself, or be destined for them once it had ceased to delight her. She ordered mint tea and sat with her back to the wall.

‘You’ve grown old,’ she said, although she was older than he by almost a decade.

‘It has a certain inevitability.’

‘Isn’t it supposed to be accompanied by wisdom?’

‘Only in the most fortunate,’ said Radovan. ‘I find that resignation is often mistaken for it.’

‘Yet you appear to be neither wise – because you’re still laboring in the shadow of your brother – nor resigned, or else you would not be here.’

‘I’m hoping to find a third path.’

‘And what would that be?’

‘To survive, and let others survive also.’

Her tea arrived. He pushed the plate of tart in her direction, inviting her to share it. She declined.

‘Diabetes,’ she said. ‘I seem to be the first in my family to have developed it. I blame my exposure to the excesses of the new Europe.’

‘Such invisible ailments aside,’ said Radovan, ‘the new Europe appears to be agreeing with you. You look well.’

And she did, even as he remembered a younger Teo, and an on-off love affair that had spanned nearly fifteen years behind her first husband’s back before she traded him in for a richer, more handsome replacement, and before the Vuksan name became a byword for criminal excess. Her vrana, Teo had called Radovan, her crow, because he was so dark and clever. She had trained under Radovan’s father, who regarded her as his most gifted protegée. Now she was one of the hidden Udbasi, with a title and position that gave her access to secrets and license to roam.

She permitted him a smile, like the flash of an old camera briefly capturing a moment from the past.

‘It’s kind of you to say.’

‘How is your husband?’

‘Thriving. He likes Vienna, although he complains about the prices.’

‘Give him my regards.’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Ćirić. ‘What is it you want me to do for you, Radovan?’

‘I need to know if there is a way out of this.’

‘For you, or for Spiridon?’

‘For both of us.’

‘That’s not possible.’

‘You haven’t asked me what might be regarded as an acceptable compromise.’