“Manny,” Nando said. “Manny.” He stepped forward and tugged at Manny’s shoulder. An instant later the pressure relented.

“We won’t forget what you made us do,” Manny said. “Now get your shit downstairs.”

*   *   *

Evan was marched along the ground floor through a moist corridor scented of lavender and rose water. At Nando and Manny’s prompting, he pushed through a glass door beaded with condensation and stepped into a sprawling spa area.

They passed a Jacuzzi, a cold-water plunge pool, a teabag stuffed with herbs slung into a freestanding marble tub. Various enclosures were labeled with sleek metal placards: SAUNA, EUCALYPTUS STEAM ROOM, RAIN SHOWER. The Korean mist room featured a concrete bench studded with large smooth pebbles, matching the Zen-Disneyland motif of the rest of the spa.

They came to a small lap pool fringed with artificial grass that crunched pleasingly beneath Evan’s bare feet. He was wearing only the boxer shorts he’d slept in.

René waited cocked back in a zero-gravity chair, paperback hoisted overhead, the inverted V like a bird in flight. An IV tube snaked from one arm to a saline bag dangling off a chrome stand.

Smoking an electronic cigarette, David propped himself against a paisley-shaped bar made of rich polished wood and decorated with a string of fat Christmas lights. A bottle of Bacardi 151 sat beside his rocks glass, which was filled to the brim with square ice cubes and the amber rum. A tray of bar treats waited at his elbow. He munched Doritos from a crinkly bag, puffed vapor, sipped his drink.

René rotated forward in his chair, sinking his feet into a bubbling tank suffused with blue UV lighting. As Evan neared, he noticed dozens of tiny fish inside, swirling about René’s feet and ankles.

René flicked his paperback toward the bar. “Made from sustainably farmed rain-forest wood from Brazil,” he said. “Can you imagine caring that much?”

“Why do you have it, then?”

“None of this is mine.” His gesture encompassed the chalet. “I rent this life. What is mine is hidden away down a rabbit hole.” A smile. “Just like you do it.”

Leaning over a side table, he exchanged his book for one of the slender white remotes that seemed to operate the entire chalet and its personnel. He keyed a few buttons and let it rattle back onto the table.

A moment later two huge metal panels in the far wall parted to reveal a narrow elevator with Dr. Franklin inside. He trudged over to René, cautiously removed the IV from the crook of his elbow, and scurried back to the elevator. The doors closed, and Evan watched the lit numbers above as the doctor descended to a basement level.

Straightening his pricked arm, René buttoned his shirtsleeve. Even here in the humidity of the spa, his sartorial elegance was on display. “Would you like a refreshment?”

“Bag of Doritos would be good.”

“Nando, please fetch our guest some chips.”