“This? Oh, it’s just an old farm. It used to have cattle grazing on it. During the Communist times when I was a kid, it was part of a big farm collective. Since then, the government has been part of an effort by all the countries in the Danube basin to clean up the rivers. They haven’t reopened the cattle farm. It’s too dirty to be this close to the river.”

“Can we stop and take a look?”

“Of course,” Tibor said. He pulled over to the side of the road and parked. Sam and Remi walked a bit on the field by themselves.

“Well, we came,” said Remi, “and I don’t see anybody.”

“No signs of recent digging either,” Sam said. “Albrecht must have replaced the turf when he left and it hasn’t been disturbed.”

“Do you think Albrecht managed to persuade his kidnappers that his find was somewhere else?”

“I doubt it. All Selma needed was the outline of the river to find it, and Albrecht knew somebody had been watching him while he was here. I have a strong feeling they’re keeping him somewhere close by. In order for him to be of use, they’d have to bring him here to tell them where to dig and what to look for or have him where they can bring the things they find to him.”

“Maybe. But how do we find him?”

Sam looked past her. “I think the watchers have found us.”

Remi turned her head to see a dark car that was stopped far up the straight two-lane road that ran along the river. A person with sharp eyes could detect that there were heads visible above the seats. She took out her phone and took a few pictures of the field, the river, and then up the road where the dark car stood.

Sam said, “Albrecht mentioned a big black car with four men in it. Do you think your phone will catch a license plate at that distance?”

“Maybe, but I have a feeling we’ll get a closer look,” said Remi.

They walked back toward the car, and Tibor said, “Do you know those men in the black car?”

“No,” Sam said. “Do you?”

“I don’t think so. I saw a reflection a minute ago. One of them seems to be watching us with binoculars. That’s the right word, isn’t it?” and he held both hands up to his eyes with the fingers circled.

“That’s the word,” said Remi. “They’re probably just wondering what we’re doing walking around an old cow pasture.”

“All right,” he said. He started the car and made a three-point turn and drove back to the bridge they had crossed, returning to the west side of the river. He kept looking in the mirror. “Are you sure you don’t know them?”

“Positive,” said Remi. “We’ve never been to Hungary before.”

They drove to Arad Martyrs Square and saw the monument to the men killed in the 1848 revolt, the Musical Clock with sculpted figures from a medieval university, Klauzál Square, Schéchenyi Square, all in the city’s center. The district was full of flowers and trees and pastel-colored baroque buildings that didn’t look real.