‘Okay.’ He eyeballed her. ‘Let’s understand one another. I want an exact—an exact—printout of their itinerary before I leave these offices. I want to know where they were going at every stage of their journey and who they were going to meet. I want numbers, addresses—everything you have. And I mean everything.’

She stared back at him, her eyes getting colder by the second.

‘Is that understood?’

He knew she would have loved to lean over the desk and roar in his face. He was intrigued to see if she would snap. For a few seconds he watched her—he could see her contemplating whether to tell him to fuck off, but instead she picked up the phone and asked the receptionist to print off the itinerary. When she put the phone down she picked up Mann’s card from the desk. She held it in her square-edged acrylic talons and studied it. Then she looked up. She could scoop out a lot of flesh with those claws, thought Mann.

‘Of course, Inspector. We are very keen to cooperate with the police…’ She held his card in the air and gave a one-sided, sarcastic smile. ‘…Even those who are not directly involved…The itinerary you require will be ready now. I am sorry I can be of no more help.’

Mann took his time getting to his feet. He was still trying to see how much it would take to make her snap. As she click-clacked ahead along the corridor he dawdled, stopping to get a good look at some of the expedition photos up on the walls. There was one of a group of children crowded round a family of volunteers.

‘You in any of these photos?’ he called to her as she marched ahead. ‘What about this one?’

He read the title: Orphans of the conflict. She turned sharply on her heels, her patience exhausted.

‘Were you ever a volunteer? You ever part of an expedition?’

‘No. I am not in the photos and, no, I have never been on an expedition. Follow me, please.’

They walked back through the line of desks and the receptionist handed him the file in a kittenish fashion. Mann noticed that she’d reapplied her makeup and brushed her hair. He gave her an appreciative smile.

Katrien walked him to the door. Mann stopped just short of it. A group of eager-faced teenagers and their nervous-looking parents were waiting in the lobby.

‘Are you still planning to send kids on expeditions?’

‘Yes, of course. We have commitments. We believe the crisis will be over soon.’

‘Do you? Let’s hope you’re right.’ He looked around him at the plush office—the latest Macs, the freshly brewing coffee. ‘You’re a charity, right?’ She nodded. ‘You must charge a lot to send kids into war zones.’

‘We do not send any of our volunteers into an area which is…‘

‘So you said—but that’s exactly what you did. And—by the way—you keep people in camps, policed and without citizenship, dignity, work or proper respect, you are creating a problem the exact problem that we have now. There are always people willing to die for a cause.’

He was about to leave when Dorothy appeared in front of them.

‘Excuse me, sir. Mrs Cremer—Magda—is she okay?’ Dorothy kept her eyes fixed on Mann. She wasn’t going to risk looking at Katrien stood next to him. He could imagine she’d be glaring at Dorothy right now with those beady black eyes set to stun.

‘Just about.’

‘Please tell her that we are all praying for Jake…‘

‘Thank you. I will pass that on.’ Mann was about to walk away but Dorothy still hovered.

‘It must be especially hard, coming so soon after the last time…’

‘The last time?’ Mann could feel Katrien breathing down his neck. Something was making his stomach churn; he felt a terrible weight in the pit of it. ‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s barely a year since her other son was killed.’

13

Mann found himself a sunny spot in a café on Dam Square, sat back and sipped his double espresso as he studied the world through his sunglasses and waited for Magda. He had an early evening flight booked back home, it left in a few hours. He needed to talk with her alone. He saw her coming from way off. He watched her walk across the square towards him. He still didn’t get it. He could not understand his father having an affair for all those years and on such a scale…He knew that it was how it was with Chinese men in the old days, but Mann had never thought of his father in that way. Maybe if Mann hadn’t been educated in England he would see things differently. To find out his father had conformed to the old Chinese ways of keeping a concubine made Mann feel at best disappointed, at worst betrayed. Infidelity just didn’t sit right with Mann.

Sure, he’d had his fair share of one-night stands, some mistakes, plus a lot of good times. It wasn’t that Mann had never known love. Helen had been a good kind of love, solid, sweet and dependable. He had never felt the need to look elsewhere. They were well matched in every way. She kept him on his toes. If she thought he was ignoring her she made sure he knew it. He had loved her as much as he could but it wasn’t enough. She’d wanted kids, commitment. He was married to his work; he was committed to finding his father’s killer and a part of him was too scared to love and lose. She knew that but it didn’t stop her wanting more from him. Now he could see that she’d deserved more. He wished he had not let her leave that day. He had driven up just as the taxi driver was putting her case in the boot. Helen was looking at him through the back window with love in her eyes and still he hadn’t stopped her. He wished he’d known then that the taxi driver was taking her to a place to be tortured and killed.

Watching Magda cross the square now, Mann saw the other side of being a mistress. He realised how much of Magda’s life must have been on hold; how much of it must have been destroyed by his father’s death. As she neared the café she caught sight of him, waved and walked over.

‘Are you okay sitting outside?’ he asked.

‘Of course. It actually feels like spring today.’ She smiled but her eyes were full of sadness at the irony of the world coming to life. She was wearing the same jeans, the same fleece that she’d had on the previous evening. She had a beanie pulled over her head. She ordered a hot chocolate and sat down opposite him. There was some softness in her pale face today, thought Mann. It was almost serene. She caught him looking at her.

‘Sorry. I am on strong painkillers. It makes me drift away. Sometimes I find it hard to come back and sometimes I don’t want to.’

Mann smiled. ‘I understand, Magda.’

He waited until the waitress brought her drink. Magda cradled her mug of chocolate and closed her eyes for a few seconds as she enjoyed a brief respite from the turmoil and savoured the sun on her face.

‘I went to the NAP offices this morning. I found the manageress, Katrien—the one Alfie calls “the Bitch”. I can see what he means.’ Mann set his cup down. Magda spooned the frothy cream from her chocolate into her mouth. ‘I think she’s not telling us anywhere near as much as she could,’ Mann continued. ‘I want Alfie to follow her. I want to know all about her. I want you to keep the pressure up on her every day, Magda, you and the other parents. You need to get more vocal. You need to stamp your foot in the government departments. Don’t let them ease off.’

‘I can do that.’ Magda stirred her chocolate vigorously, her spirit returning.

‘I also want you both to look into NAP’s business. Find out what projects they have completed. There is a woman in the office called Dorothy Jansen.’

‘I know her. She’s a nice lady.’

‘Get her on your side and get her to pry into Katrien’s life, personal and professional. Who is she? I want to know everything about her and NAP. Find out everything you can about what they do. There is nothing like having an insider, Magda. Get Dorothy to help, discreetly.’