hat test?' Krasic said suspiciously.

'If he's telling the truth, then Carol Jordan won't have any compunction about fucking me, will she?'

The cold hand of panic constricted Tony's heart. What had he done?

Marijke put the phone down, struggling with mixed feelings. When Tony hadn't called her back, she hadn't known whether to be worried or pissed off. Either way, it left her hanging in mid-air, not knowing what was happening to her one semisolid lead after weeks of chasing dead ends on the de Groot case. She also found, to her surprise, that she was feeling guilty about keeping her ideas from her colleagues. Reluctantly, she had to admit to herself that she was neither ruthless nor self confident enough to put her own ambition ahead of the need to put a stop to these killings.

She'd pushed her paperwork to one side and drawn up a brief report of her reasons for suspecting Wilhelm Albert Mann. Of course, without being able to attach Tony's name to the theory, it didn't have the advantage of the weight of expertise, but she considered she'd done a good job of making it sound convincing. She'd concluded with the suggestion that, in the absence of any hard evidence, Mann should be put under surveillance.

Then she'd gone in search of Maartens, eventually tracking him down in the bar across the street where he'd stopped for a quick beer on his way home. 'I want to send this to the cops in Koln,' she'd said, thrusting it under his nose.

He'd read it carefully, sipping at his Oranjeboom with an expression of vague distrust. 'Nice work, Marijke,' he said .when he got to the end of it. Tm impressed with your knowledge of nautical knots.'

'The internet,' she said. 'Great research tool. What do you think? Should I send it to them, or is it going to make me look like a crazy woman running on intuition rather than evidence?'

Maartens spluttered a mouthful of beer over his hand. 'Marijke, if the guys in Koln are looking at as little as we are, they're going to give you the keys to the city. If nothing else, it gives them something to do that feels like action. Sure, it might just be coincidence, but what you're saying looks a lot like sense to me. It's not as if this guy has any legitimate professional reason for being here in Leiden, since we don't have commercial traffic on our canals. If this landed on my desk tonight, I'd have a team on the bugger by midnight And I'd keep them on him till either he made a move or somebody else got killed at the other end of the country. Come on, let me buy you a drink to celebrate the first bit of forward movement we've had since de Groot got killed.'

She shook her head. 'Thanks, boss, but I'll take one in the pump for later. I want to get this on the fax to Koln right away.'

Hartmut Karpf in Koln hadn't wasted any time. Within fifteen minutes of her sending the fax, he'd called her back. 'This is really interesting material,' he'd said enthusiastically. 'Look, I want to move on this fast. But it's going to take a lot of manpower to do it properly. Is there any chance that you can come to Koln tomorrow? It would help me to convince my boss that it's worth doing if you were here to make the case in person.'

'I need to dear it with my commander, but I don't think he'll have any objection. Let me get back to you on that, OK?'

Half an hour later, she had made the arrangements. She needed to be in Koln by noon the following day. Which offered some interesting possibilities. Marijke checked her watch. Before she made any decisions, she had to check out flights.

It was turning into a very good day indeed. If only Tony would call, then it could get close to perfect.

The lane that ran past Matic's farm was as black as an underground cavern. High hedges cut out any light from the farmhouse, and cloud obscured the thin sliver of the crescent moon. It was hard to believe they were only a couple of miles from the edge of town, so still and dark was the spring evening. Petra peered at a green and black world through night-vision goggles, courtesy of the Special Ops commander. She felt as if she were underwater, men swimming in and out of her field of sight like strange aquatic creatures, their faces obscured with goggles and masks to protect against the smoke and tear gas they'd be using when they storrned the place.

The laconic tough guys who had been strutting their stuff all afternoon, crowding out her office, lolling in chairs and sprawling on the floor, had been transformed as night had fallen. They'd become a disciplined team, economic of movement and stealthy as shades. As soon as it had grown dark, a couple of them had flitted across the yard, silently planting microphones in the walls of the farmhouse and diverting the phone line via their own communications system. No incoming calls would be able to get through, and if Matic or his wife tried to make a call, all they would hear would be an unanswered ringing tone.

Now the team had the farmhouse encircled. When the word was given, they would rush the place, breaking the door down with a hydraulic ram. Petra had the plan off by heart. First the smoke, then the tear gas, then the men would pour in. The primary objective was to secure the child, the secondary objective to capture Arkady Matic and his wife. Petra was to wait in the lane with the commander of the unit, only approaching once those objectives had been secured.

The commander was standing over his communications specialist. 'Where are we up to?' he asked.

'They're talking in the kitchen. One adult male, one adult female. The child is there too. The woman just told her to sit at the table. They're about to eat dinner.'

'Good. We'll wait till they're sitting down, then we'll move in.' He turned to Petra. 'We want the minimum of fuss, so we'll go in when they're occupied with their food.'

She nodded agreement. 'The last thing we want is a hostage situation.'

'Quite,' he said briskly, the fingers of one hand beating a tattoo against his thigh. 'God, I hate the waiting game.'

They stood in tense silence for a long couple of minutes, then the comms specialist gave the thumbs-up sign. 'The woman's dishing up dinner... She's sitting down and joining them. Yes, they're all there.'

The commander grabbed his radio. 'This is K-one to all units. Move in. Repeat, move in.' He gestured to Petra to follow hmi and they jogged the twenty yards to the farm gate. Moving shadows flickered around the house, caught in the soft light from curtained windows. Suddenly the night was split open by the crash of the ram against the solid wooden door, and cries of, 'Armed police, freeze!' filled the air.

The crunch of splintering wood reached them on the fault night breeze, then the soft crump of smoke grenades and the rattle of gas canisters against a hard surface. Muffled shouts followed, then the sound that Petra had dreaded. The boom of a single gunshot rang out. Horrified, she turned to the commander.

'Shotgun,' he said laconically.

There followed the sudden chatter of automatic fire. Then silence. 'What's going on?' Petra cried.

'I'd guess the farmer got a shot off before one of ours took him down. Don't worry, it's not turning into a fire fight.' His radio crackled and he raised it to his ear. Petra couldn't distinguish the words, only an excited jabber. Til be right there,' he said. He clapped her on the shoulder. 'Come on, it's all over. They've got the girl.'

She followed him up the track. Tendrils of smoke drifted out of the open door, which sagged from a single hinge. As they reached the farmhouse, one of the Special Ops men walked out with a wailing child in his arms. Petra ran up and took his burden from him. 'It's all right, Tanja,' she said, stroking the girl's lank, unwashed hair. 'I'm taking you back to your mum.'

The commander was nowhere in sight. 'What happened?' Petra asked the officer who had brought Tanja out.

'Stupid bastard went for his shotgun,' he said. 'We've got one guy with flesh wounds to the arm and thigh. Nothing serious, I don't think.'

'What about Matic?' she asked, rocking the whimpering Tanja in her arms.

The officer made the traditional throat-cutting gesture. 'We had no choice. It's a bugger, though. The come-back we get from something like this, you'd think we went around shooting people for the hell of it.'

'You don't have any option when somebody's pointing a gun at you,' Petra agreed. 'Look, I want to get Tanja out of here. Will you tell your boss I've gone? We'll need to have a proper debrief, but that can wait for morning.'

He nodded. Til pass it on.'

Petra walked away from the farm, wishing her car was parked closer. Tanja was growing heavier with every step, and she didn't know if she could carry her all the way. What a day, she thought, plodding onwards. She wondered momentarily how Carol was coping. She presumed there would be a report of yesterday's meeting with Radecki waiting in her mailbox, but there was no way she was going to get to that for the next couple of hours. She had to get Tanja off to the safe house and make sure all the security was in place. Tomorrow, she would organize the first of a series of interviews with Marlene that she hoped would give them enough to make sure Radecki stood trial in Germany, not in liberal Holland.

There was so much to be done. But it would all be worth it when she sat in court and watched Radecki go down for a very long time. She grinned in spite of her aching back. God, she loved this job.

Carol was finally managing to enjoy herself. Marijke had kept her posted about everyone else's activities, and she'd been frustrated at her inability to lend a hand. But there was no point in fretting, she scolded herself. So she'd taken a long luxurious bath, which had left her feeling more relaxed than she had since she first arrived in Berlin. She'd discovered that her apartment TV had a cable channel showing English films in the evenings, and she was sprawled on the sofa in Caroline Jackson's silk kimono, savouring the black humour of Shallow Grave and a bottle of Sancerre.

The film had just reached the point where Christopher Ecclestone was holed up in the loft with the money when the entryphone buzzed. Surprised, she hit the mute button, rolled languidly to her feet and went through to the hallway. The only person it was likely to be was Radecki, she thought. She wasn't in the mood for his company, nor was she dressed for it, but she could probably put him off.

Carol picked up the handset. 'Who is it?'

'It's me, Tadeusz. Can I come up?'

'I'm in the middle of some work, Tadzio. Can't we meet tomorrow?'

'I really need to see you. I can't stay long, I have to be at the TV studios in an hour.'

She could manage an hour, she thought, pressing the door release button and hurrying through to the bedroom. A silk kimono was far too suggestive for Radecki right now, she knew. She pulled on some loose linen trousers, hastily fastened her bra and grabbed a shirt, then he was knocking at her door. She dragged the shirt over her head as she walked back into the hall and let him in.

He gave her no time to greet him, simply hauling her into his arms and kissing her hard and fierce on the mouth. He moved into the apartment, taking her with him, kicking the door shut as they went. Carol managed to free her lips from his, rearing back and laughing nervously. 'Hey, whoa! This is all a bit sudden,' she said.

'I've been thinking about you all day,' he said. There was an intensity to his voice that she had never heard before. 'I know you wanted time to think, but this is driving me crazy. I want you so bad, I can't eat, I can't sleep.' His hands were all over her, strong and urgent, giving her no opportunity to break free. He nuzzled her neck, nibbling at her ear with sharp little bites.

Carol started to feel nervous. This wasn't in her mental script of how things would go. She had been in control, but now she felt the situation running away from her. 'Tadzio, wait,' she said plaintively.

'Why?' he demanded. 'Last night, you wanted me as much as I wanted you. I know, I felt it. Why do we need to wait?'

'I'm not ready for this,' she said, trying to slip out of his embrace. But he was too strong, his encircling arms too tight around her.

'You know you are,' he said, his voice softer now. 'I didn't mean to scare you.' He raised a hand to the back of her neck, his long fingers caressing the soft skin there.

In spite of herself, Carol began to feel the sheer animal pleasure of his body against hers. There was a thrill in the power of his desire for her, no escaping it. But there was no way she could afford to yield. She was a cop, she reminded herself. Everything would be wasted if she let him seduce her. Besides, she wasn't about to do anything she would be ashamed of telling Tony. 'I'm not scared,' she said. Tm just not sure.'

'I'll make you sure,' he said, backing her into the living room and running both hands down her back to her buttocks.

Carol saw her chance and managed to slip out from under his grasp. She took a couple of swift steps away from him. 'This is too sudden,' she protested. Tadeusz stared wildly at her, his hair awry. God, he's gorgeous. The very thought felt like treachery.

'Please, Caroline,' he said, his voice cracking. 'I know you want me. We were both hot for each other last night. But if you won't trust yourself to make love with me when you want to, why should I believe you're someone I can trust in business? What's the big deal? We're both adults. We want to fuck each other's brains out. It's not like either of us has anybody else, is it? There's no question of infidelity. Just two people going crazy with desire.'

What was the right answer? Carol struggled to find something that would make sense to him, that would keep the deal alive while preserving her position. 'I can't explain,' she said. 'I just need some time, that's all.' He took a step towards her and she retreated. 'Please, Tadzio,' she added, trying for her most appealing smile.

He closed in on her, and suddenly she had nowhere left to go. Backed up against the wall, she was in his arms again. Again he was kissing her, the weight of his body keeping her pinned in place. He ran a hand over her breast, gently squeezing her nipple. She felt it harden involuntarily. 'You see?' he gasped. 'Your body knows the answer.' His hand moved downwards, sliding over her stomach.

Carol summoned up all her strength and pushed, catching him off balance enough to escape again. She backed into the middle of the room. 'This really isn't the time, Tadzio.'

He turned to face her. Now there was no tenderness in his expression. His eyes had darkened, his brows lowered. 'There's never going to be a right time, is there, Carol?' He delivered her name with a snarl.

Until then, she had felt no real sense of threat. He had seemed nothing more than an importunate wannabe lover; she had believed she could appeal to his innate good manners to protect herself. But that one word shattered the illusion. It hit her with the force of a physical blow. He knew her real name. She struggled to keep her composure but couldn't keep her eyes from widening in shock. 'Yes, that's right, I know who you are,' he said, advancing on her again.

She tried to circle away from him, but the loose material of her trousers caught in a chair leg, slowing her down enough for him to grab her wrist. 'Of course you know who I am,' she said, trying to sound reasonable. 'You checked me out.'

'I checked out Caroline Jackson,' he said, his voice low and dangerous. 'And I also checked out Carol Jordan.'

It was too late for bluff, she realized. There was nothing left to say. The only weapon she had now was silence. She held his gaze, trying for strength and defiance.

'Your precious boyfriend's been telling tales, Carol. Dr Hill spun me a story about how you weren't really a cop any more. How you'd crossed the line, seen your chance and taken it. But if that had been true, you would have slept with me. You would have let me fuck you seven different ways last night and again tonight. Anything to get what you wanted. Only a cop would hold out. I'm right, aren't I? You're still a cop?'

Still she said nothing, forcing her face not to give away the terror she'd felt as soon as he mentioned Tony. How had he found Tony? Where was he? What had they done to him?

Suddenly, he yanked her arm hard, pulling her off balance. As she staggered, he slapped her face with his free hand. 'You wouldn't fuck me, but you came straight back here and fucked him, didn't you, bitch?'

Carol steadied herself and looked at him with contempt. 'Is that what this is about? Male ego?' As soon as the words were out, she realized her mistake. Faster than she would have believed possible, he threw himself on her, his momentum bringing them both crashing to the floor. Now he had both hands free, and he slapped her face from side to side, her head jerking back and forth till she felt the room spin.

Then she was mercifully, unexpectedly free of him. She rolled on to her side and struggled to her knees, the world a dizzying kaleidoscope around her. She felt herself being jerked backwards and upwards. Her feet scrabbled for purchase on the floor, but before she could support herself, he slammed her into the wall with a sickening crunch. She felt her nose crumple as it hit, tasted the sharp coppery bite of blood at the back of her throat. Her knees failed her, and she collapsed to the floor again.

'I don't care if you fuck every man in Berlin,' he growled. 'What I care about is that you had my Katerina killed so you could play out your shitty little game.'

Carol rolled groggily into a sitting position. He knew what he was doing, fucking her head up like this. She could barely string two thoughts together, so stunned was she. What she did know, however, was that his words made no sense. 'No,' she groaned. 'That's not true. We just... took advantage.'

He leaned forward and grabbed a handful of her shirt front, pulling her up again. 'You think I'm stupid? You still think there's any point in lying to me?'

'I'm not... lying,'Carol managed to squeeze out through bruised lips. 'We didn't kill Katerina.'

'Don't fucking lie to me,' he screamed, flecks of spittle flying from his mouth and spattering her face. 'The motorbike that caused the accident is registered to your fucking National Crime Squad. You killed Katerina. And then you killed Colin Osborne so there would be two nice little vacancies for you to fill.'

'I had nothing to do with Katerina's death,' she protested weakly. 'I'd never heard your name till a couple of weeks ago.' Now he was dragging her across the room. Dazed, Carol couldn't work out ^hat was going on. He was clearly going to kill her, so why not just get on with it?

When she registered that he was hauling her into the bedroom, her befuddled brain found the answer to that question. The panic that hit her then cut straight through her confused state. Oh, no, she thought. There is no way this is going to happen to me. Carol let her body flop, turning herself into a dead weight in a bid to slow him down. But he was in the grip of a rage of primeval proportions, a berserker fury that gave him a strength beyond his normal means.

She began to twist and flail, hoping he'd have to loosen his grip to contain her. He stopped heaving her across the floor for a moment and stooped over her. 'You know what's coming, don't you, bitch? I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to make you live with what you've done to me.' Then he slapped her again, so hard she thought her neck would snap. This time, she faded into unconsciousness.

When she came to, she couldn't remember where she was or why her head was a solid throb of pain. Nor could she understand why her hands wouldn't move when she tried to pull them out from under her back. Then he moved into her line of sight and everything clicked back into focus. She was naked on her bed, hands bound beneath her. And Radecki was hell-bent on revenge.

'You've destroyed my life,' he said. 'You killed Katerina, and you've obviously done enough to destroy my business. Well, now it's my turn. You'll get what's coming to you. And then I'm going back to kill your boyfriend. So you'll have to live with the knowledge that you are responsible for the death of someone you loved. Just like you've forced me to do. And then I'm going to walk away.'

'You... won't... get...' she mumbled.

'I won't get away with it? Of course I will. You think I haven't planned for this? You can't get my money. By morning, I'll be somewhere you and your bosses can't touch me, even if you could find me. So you see, all of this has been for nothing.' As he spoke, he was stripping off, placing shirt and trousers delicately over a chair, dropping his socks into his shoes. At last he stood naked before her. His erection was the ugliest thing she'd ever seen.

He walked towards the bed. Desperately, Carol tried to writhe away from him. But her hands were useless and her head wasn't working any more. He kneeled on the bed, forcing her legs apart. 'Come on, struggle a bit more. Make it more fun for me,' he taunted her.

Carol summoned up the last of her courage and spat in his face. He didn't even bother to wipe it clean. He simply smiled and said, 'I'm going to enjoy this, bitch.'

Then he was on top of her and she wanted to die.

Darko Krasic sat behind the wheel of the Mercedes smoking a cigar. He didn't want to think about what was happening three floors up. He hadn't believed a word of that stupid tale that Hill had tried to fob them off with. But Tadeusz had it bad for the woman, bad enough to clutch at a straw that thin. If it had been up to him, they would have finished Hill off in Koblenz and left him to rot on the barge. Because if he was right and Carol Jordan was a cop, they were finished, and instead of fucking around they should be activating their long-established escape plans.

After he'd dropped Tadeusz off at the apartment, he'd driven Tony to a small industrial unit they occasionally used for temporary storage. He'd driven the car right inside, then dragged the tarpaulin-wrapped bundle out of the boot and dumped it on the floor. He hadn't even bothered to check if he was alive. Krasic couldn't have cared less.

When he got back behind the wheel, he'd been tempted to cut and run. But loyalty had overcome his primal instincts and he'd driven back to collect Tadeusz as they'd arranged. Still, he couldn't help thinking he was acting like a fool. He tapped the cigar against the open window glass and glanced at the dashboard clock. They were cutting it fine. If Tadeusz was going to be live on air in three-quarters of an hour, he'd better get a move on.

He really didn't want to think about what was taking so much time.

At last, the door of the apartment block opened and Tadeusz emerged, his coat flapping around him as he hurried to the car. He flung open the door and jumped in. The smell of sweat and sex penetrated even the fug of Krasic's cigar, and the Serb's heart sank as he put the car in gear. 'What happened?' he asked, his heart sinking at the thought that the bitch had managed to pull the wool over his boss's eyes.

'She's a cop,' Tadeusz said. A jittery energy seemed to flow from him, filling the car with restless, pent-up edginess.

'We're fucked, then?'

He gave a harsh laugh. 'Well, somebody is.' He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. 'Yes, Darko, basically, we're fucked.'

'So we're getting out, yeah?'

'Yes. Tonight. As soon as I've done what I have to do. We'll go to the TV station, I'll do my piece to camera, then we have to finish our business with Dr Hill. And then we pull out. We'll be in Belgrade for lunch.'

Krasic frowned. He didn't like this. In his experience, when things needed to be done, you cracked on and did them. You didn't piss about with the frills. 'Why don't we go now?'

'Because I don't want to set any alarm bells ringing. If Jordan has told the local cops what she knows and I don't show up for the TV show when I'm supposed to, they might realize that I'm leaving town. And we might not make it out of the country.'

'Fine. Do the TV. But leave that asshole Hill alone.'

'No way. He's going to die.'

'Tadzio, he's going to die anyway. He's tied up like a Christmas parcel, he's got his own underpants stuffed in his mouth for a gag. He's got broken bones and no clothes on. And nobody knows where he is. He's going to die a very slow and painful death.'

Tadeusz shook his head. 'Not good enough. I want to see him die. I'm not taking any chances with that.'

'Did you kill her?' Krasic finally found the nerve to ask.

Tadeusz looked out of the window. 'No. That's why I've got to kill him. Let her live with what it feels like to lose the person you love when they've done nothing to deserve it. But don't worry, Darko. She's not in any fit state to set the dogs on us. I left her trussed like a chicken.'

There really was no answer to that, Krasic thought. Tadzio was out of control, and there was no arguing with him when he was in this frame of mind. He remembered it too well from the period after Katerina's death. All he could do was try to exercise some damage limitation.

'OK,' he said. 'But we make it quick and clean. I want to be on the road by midnight.'

'Don't worry, we will be.'

Krasic slowed down as he approached the barrier in front of the TV station car park. He sincerely hoped he wasn't hearing famous last words.

In the end, she had pretended to pass out. It hadn't been much of a stretch, for by then Carol had only been clinging to consciousness by a thread. She listened to him moving around the bedroom, getting dressed, heard his footsteps in the hall and then the merciful slam of the apartment door.

Only then did she let the tears come. Hot and heavy, they dripped from her lids, sliding down her temples to mingle with the sweat that plastered her hair to her head. She hadn't let him see her cry. It was the tiniest shred of victory, but it was enough to save her from feeling utterly destroyed.

Not that she was feeling anything much right then. It was as if by invading her Radecki had simultaneously hollowed her out. And the physical pain helped. It was something to focus on. Her raped, sodomized, and battered body provided plenty to keep her occupied.

But even through the haze of agony and grief and the overwhelming knowledge of degradation, Carol knew she couldn't just lie there and endure her suffering. He was going to kill Tony. It was probably already too late to do anything to stop him, but she had to try.

She tested the bonds on her wrists again. It was no use. Whatever he had used to pinion her had no give. She tried to move her legs, then realized they too were bound. A sob of despair caught in her throat. Somehow, she was going to have to manage.

Carol dug her heels into the bed, wincing at the fresh waves of suffering that pulsed from her lower abdomen and spread through her body. Gradually, inch by excruciating inch, she dragged herself to the bottom of the bed. She wriggled forward and managed to get her feet on the floor. Her muscles screamed their objections as she struggled into a sitting position. The effort left her gasping for breath.

Gingerly, she tried to stand. At the first effort, her knees wobbled disastrously and she collapsed back on the bed. Bile rose in her throat and she spat it out, past caring as it dribbled down her chest. On the second attempt, she coped better. She was swaying like a reed bed in a sea breeze, but she was upright.

Upright but incapable of forward movement. She could no more jump with her feet tied than she could have swung from the ceiling with her bound wrists. There was nothing else for it. She was going to have to roll. Almost weeping with the distress, she let herself fall to the floor. With a mixture of rolling and convulsive crawling, she made it through to the living room, bouncing painfully off the door jambs as she went. The phone on the desk seemed an impossible distance away, but she knew she had to get there. All that kept her going was the knowledge that Tony's life might depend on what fragile strength she had left in her. She couldn't afford to dwell on what had been done to her; there was more at stake than that.

In a blur of anguish, she crossed the room and banged into the desk. She squirmed round so she could grip the phone cable in her teeth and, with a backward jerk of her head, yanked it to the floor, the handset bouncing a foot away from her head. Through eyes puffed with tears and bruising, she peered at the push buttons. She knew she had memorized Petra's mobile number in what felt like a past life and prayed she could remember it now.

Digit by digit, Carol pressed her chin against the keys, hoping she would be quick enough to avoid the electronic switchboard system giving up on her and cutting the line before she reached the end. Finally, she twisted round so she could lean her head against the receiver. She heard the blessed sound of a phone ringing. It stopped abruptly, then she heard the electronic beep of an answering machine. Petra's voice chattered cheerfully in German, then there was another beep.

Carol tried to speak and could only croak. She cleared her throat painfully. 'Petra. It's Carol. I need you now. Come to the apartment. Please.' It was all she could manage. With her last ounce of energy, she terminated the call by rolling over on to the receiver rest.

Her immediate mission accomplished, Carol gave in and let unconsciousness claim her.

Tony had never been so cold in his life. It had been bad enough in the boot of the car, but at least there he'd been lying on carpet. He had no idea where he was now, but it felt as if he was lying on concrete or stone. He'd begun shivering uncon trollably a while ago, but his body seemed to be beyond that effort now. His muscles ached with cramp and, whenever he breathed, he could feel the broken tips of his ribs protest as they grated against each other. Was this how it had been for the children in Schloss Hochenstein? Freezing, in pain, alone and waiting for death?

Physical discomfort, however, ranked a poor second behind the mental torture. He didn't understand how it had happened, but Radecki had found him in Koblenz, and had known exactly who he was. He'd thought he was so smart, coming up with his idea of a plausible story on the spur of the moment. But all he had achieved was to leave Carol in more danger than she had been before.

The worst thing about his gift for worming his way inside other people's heads was that it left him with no illusions about the extremes of evil that human beings were capable of. Someone with less insight would not have understood the psychological message that Radecki had sent out loud and clear. One way or another, he was going to have sex with Carol. Tony knew that could never be consensual; what he had provoked by his futile attempts to save Carol was to deliver her up to rape.

He had heard all the arguments about rape not being the worst thing that could happen to a woman, but he had never found them convincing. For a woman like Carol, whose sense of identity was bound up in her perception of herself as strong and ultimately inviolable, rape brought havoc to the personality. It made the glue that integrated the person come unstuck. It left her with nothing but fragments of the life she thought she had owned. It undermined everything she thought she knew about herself.

And he had not only let that happen to Carol, he had made it happen. To have said nothing at all would have been better than what he had actually done. Even to have admitted the whole truth would probably have given her more chance of survival.

Oh come on, the voice in his head berated him. Stop making a meal of this. You're using guilt to make yourself important. As soon as Radecki decided that Carol was part of a black operation that killed his girlfriend, he was going to take that kind of revenge. Stop wallowing and start thinking.

The trouble was, there was nothing about his situation that thinking would help. Like those children whose fate had been an abiding presence since he had entered the grim fastness of the schloss, he was powerless. He was bound and gagged, wrapped in smelly tarpaulin, his body too weak to put up any kind of resistance. One way or another, he was going to die here. Either Radecki would kill him, or else they'd simply leave him here to a slow, grim death. And all because some megalomaniac bastard had put Carol in the middle of a black operation.

For, strangely enough, he didn't doubt what Radecki had told him. It made sense of what had seemed the extraordinary coincidence of Carol's resemblance to Katerina. That Morgan and his team had happened to stumble across Carol after Katerina's death had always been hard for him to swallow. But it had been easier to think that ridiculous quirks of fate happened than to contemplate the arrogant brutality that killed an innocent woman simply to set up a snare to entrap her lover.

It would all be deniable, of course. If Carol survived, which was probably no more than a fifty-fifty chance right now, nobody would ever admit the way she'd been set up by her own side. She'd be bought off with whatever professional sop she asked for, but she'd always have Katerina's death hanging round her neck like an albatross. Every time she looked in the mirror, she would be reminded of the accident of genetics that had cost another woman her life.

Whatever the outcome for Carol tonight, he knew she would never be whole again. And while he knew it would be n almost unbearable to see that disintegration happen to her,

he bitterly regretted that he wouldn't be there to offer what small help he could. He'd never been one for regrets, believing that the choices people make are invariably the only possible ones for them at that point in their lives. But now he was about to die, he realized that they did have some value after all. Regret for things done and undone could provoke change in the future.

Only those with no future left could see that clearly.

Petra walked out of the safe house with a deep sense of fulfilment. Mother and daughter had had a satisfyingly emotional reunion, and Marlene was acting as if Petra were her new best friend. For the first time, she had actually volunteered information, revealing that she knew far more about Darko s? Krasic's activities than Petra had suspected. 'Tanja's father

j| used to work for Radecki and Krasic,' she had admitted. 'His

brother's a shipping agent, and Rudi was the go-between who helped set up their transport arrangements in the early days.'

'Where's Rudi now?'

'Feeding the fishes. His body turned up in the Spree a couple of years ago. It was supposed to have been an accident. He was pissed and they said he'd fallen in and drowned. We'd split up by then, but I always wondered. Radecki and Krasic don't like anybody knowing their business.'

It was yet another angle to go at. But that could wait till morning. Exhausted, Petra walked to her car, taking out her mobile and switching it back on. She'd turned it off while she'd been in the safe house, wanting no interruptions while she talked to Marlene. Immediately it rang, telling her she had a message. She dialled in to her message service and retrieved it. At first, she couldn't make out what was being said, only recognizing the voice as Carol's because she was speaking English. Hastily, she played it again, finger in her other ear to drown out the background traffic noise.

This time, there was no mistaking the words, or the desperation behind them. What the hell had happened? Petra ran the last few yards and drove like a traffic cop to Carol's street. She abandoned the car in a disabled bay and raced back up the street to the apartment block, groping in her bag for the spare set of keys to the apartment, congratulating herself on the foresight that had made her take a copy of Carol's keys. Luckily the lift was standing at the ground floor, so she didn't need to waste her energy running up the stairs.

She was about to put the key in the lock when she had a momentary flash of concern. What if this was a trap? What if Radecki or Krasic had forced Carol to make the call?

Petra pushed the thought away. Carol wouldn't put another officer at risk like that. If she'd been coerced, she would have found a form of words that would have given Petra warning. She unlocked the door and stepped inside. The apartment was silent, though she could see the flicker of the TV screen from the hallway. She picked up the smells of sex and blood and froze where she stood. 'Carol?' she called out.

Nothing. Petra slipped her hand into her bag, where her standard-issue Walther PPK nestled in an easily accessible inside pocket. Cautiously, she drew the gun and slipped off the safety. Gently placing her bag on the floor, she held the gun in a two-handed grip as she inched forward towards the living-room doorway, her back to the wall.

She turned swiftly into the room, straight into a firing stance. What confronted her was far, far worse than she could have imagined. Carol lay in a crumpled heap, wrists and ankles bound behind her back with leather belts. Her face was a streaked mess of blood, saliva, mucus and tears. Her nose was swollen and angled improbably. Her eyes were invisible in the puffy purpling of bruised flesh. Smudged trails of blood and shit were visible on her thighs. There was no room for doubt about what had happened here.

'Jesus Christ,' Petra moaned. She crossed the room in rapid strides, sticking her gun in her waistband. Tears of anger and grief swelled inside her as she sought frantically for a pulse in Carol's neck. Relief hit her as her fingers felt the slow beat of blood in the carotid artery.

What to do first? Petra hurried through to the kitchen and yanked out the drawers, looking for a sharp knife. She grabbed a dishtowel and ran it under the cold tap.

Gingerly she cut the belts away from Carol's hands and feet, swearing as sh& took in the deep welts they left. Carol's arms fell to her sides and a groan escaped from her lips. Petra sat down behind her and manoeuvred her into a more comfortable position, tenderly cradling her. She wiped the damp towel across Carol's forehead, constantly repeating, 'It's Petra, Carol. I'm here for you.'

Within a minute, Carol's swollen eyelids flickered, a thin gap appearing between them. 'Petra?' she whispered.

'I'm here, Carol. You're safe now.'

Carol struggled in her arms. 'Tony. They've got Tony,' she cried.

'Radecki?' Petra asked, no doubt in her mind who was responsible for this nightmare.

'He's got Tony. He's going to kill him. He told me. He knows who I am. I'm blown. And he's going to kill Tony because we killed Katerina.' Petra's mind tried to grapple with Carol's words and make sense of them. What was all this about killing Katerina? She shook her head. She couldn't process this stuff now, and it was clear that there were more urgent matters on hand. She had no idea how long had passed since the attack on Carol. She had no idea where Radecki and Krasic were. She headed straight for the salient question. 'Where have they got him? Do you know?'

'No, I don't know. But you've got to find them. Stop them. You can't let them kill Tony.' Carol's voice was desperate. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she clung on to Petra like a terrified child.

'Radecki did this to you?' She needed confirmation.