‘He’s going to document everything,’ says Theresa. ‘For his exhibition. Image, sound, video art—he didn’t go into the details.’

I feel sick. I imagine an exhibition about a perfectly normal woman becoming a murderer. A perfectly normal woman who just happens to be me.

‘That’s absurd,’ I say. ‘That’s sick. Even he can’t get away with that.’

Theresa only tilts her head to one side.

‘Okay,’ I say. ‘Tell me how he plans to proceed tonight. How’s he going to document everything?’

‘We’ve set up various cameras at the big wheel in the Prater, and I’ll also be videoing it, on my phone.’

‘Who is this we?’ I ask.

‘The team?’ Theresa says. ‘It’s just me and Kim 5 on the permanent team. There were other people involved, too, of course—the actor, extras, technicians, research assistants. But they weren’t told about the project.’

‘Kim 5?’ I say.

She rolls her eyes.

‘He calls all his assistants Kim—men and women. Don’t ask why. Probably can’t be arsed to remember our names. Or just thinks it’s cool. I’m Kim 4.’

My God.

‘And Kim 5? What’s her real name?’

‘Kim 5’s a he. Bela.’

‘Describe him to me,’ I say.

‘You saw him. In my flat.’

Things are beginning to fall into place.

‘Your so-called ex,’ I say, and Theresa nods. ‘The one you couldn’t decide whether to call Rico or Maurice.’

She says nothing.

‘Was the fight real?’ I ask and she shakes her head, shamefacedly.

‘Just a way of getting closer to you.’

She can count herself lucky that I don’t have the time right now to think about the extent of her betrayal.

‘He was in my flat. And once I saw him through the spyhole. That was him, wasn’t it?’

Theresa nods.

‘We made a mistake—thought you were out. You’d promised to join me in Starcode Red, remember? Bela got the fright of his life when you started to chase him. No one had expected you to go after him.’

She gave a short laugh, but her smile fades when she sees my face.

‘What was Bela planning to do in my flat when I surprised him?’

‘He was supposed to bring you flowers.’

‘What kind of flowers?’

‘Balder had prepared a bouquet for you—an enormous bunch of dead, withered flowers. Rather beautiful in a morbid way. Bela dropped them when he was running away from you.’

I am beginning to understand.

Flowers wither. Clocks stop. Birds fall dead from the sky.

Dorotea Lechner’s words. All part of the plan. I give Theresa a long, hard stare.

‘Was it you who hacked my accounts?’

She shakes her head.

‘I can’t do that kind of thing. Balder has other people for that. At home in Berlin.’

‘But there’s somebody else involved, isn’t there?’ I say. ‘Here in Vienna.’

Theresa looks at me with a frown, trying to sit up straight, but almost swallowed by the soft cushions.

‘Just me and Kim 5,’ she says.

‘Why are you lying?’ I ask. ‘What’s the point in lying now?’