The Chemickal Marriage

was on Mrs Kraft’s mind, not her body, and in her mind will be the cure.’
    ‘Her mind is beyond
reach
,’ replied Gorine. ‘She cannot speak one word.’
    ‘Yes. If I might impose for a supply of chemicals and then a meal – anything at all, though hot soup would be a treasure …’
    Mahmoud went for food while Gorine found paper in the desk. As Svenson made a list of what he required, Gorine studied Francesca. She sat at the foot of the chaise-longue, and for the first time Svenson realized how quiet she had become.
    ‘Heir to the Xonck empire, is it?’ Gorine asked her.
    ‘Once my uncle Henry dies.’
    ‘And you’re with this doctor? Alone?’
    ‘Her parents,’ said Svenson, ‘along with her uncle Francis –’
    Gorine plucked the list from Svenson’s hand. ‘Francis Xonck. One hopes she isn’t heir to
that
.’
    Gorine left the room. Francesca frowned at the carpet. Svenson had no idea how much the girl had heard at Parchfeldt between her uncle and her mother, or how much she had understood.
    ‘Do not mind him. We are here to help this lady. As you said yourself, a queenly countenance –’
    Francesca still stared at the floor. ‘Did
you
like my uncle Francis?’
    ‘I’m afraid your uncle did not care for
me
, my dear.’
    ‘But he loved mother. He loved
me
.’
    ‘Francesca …’
    ‘He
did
.’
    ‘Your uncle Francis loved to be happy, sweetheart – how could he not love you?’ It was a feeble attempt, and Francesca Trapping wrinkled her nose. She fell silent again. ‘What … ah … what did the Contessa say to you, about your uncle?’
    Francesca snorted, as if the question was especially stupid.
    Gorine hurried in. ‘There is someone to see you –’
    Svenson reached for his revolver. ‘No one knows I am here –’
    Gorine seized his arm. ‘For God’s sake – don’t be a fool!’
    Mahmoud appeared, and his added strength wrenched the Doctor’s weapon away.
    ‘There is no help for it,’ the dark man said. ‘He recalled your face.’
    Colonel Bronque stood in the doorway. Black hair sat flat against his skull, a widow’s peak accentuating his hawk-like nose. Gorine and Mahmoud retreated to either side.
    ‘
Macklenburg
.’ The Colonel spat it like a curse. ‘
Macklenburg
.’
    ‘What of it?’
    ‘You’re Svenson. Surgeon.
Spy
.’
    ‘Do I know you?’
    ‘Obviously not. If you did, you would be more frightened.’
    The Doctor’s fatigue got the better of him. ‘O no
doubt
,’ he replied, and sat on the desk.
    Colonel Bronque barked with harsh laughter. Svenson risked a glance to Mahmoud and Gorine – both nodding gamely along with the Colonel’s amusement. Bronque came forward beaming. ‘I did not think you fellows had any humour at all.’
    ‘What fellows?’
    ‘Macklenburgers – Germans. I knew your Major Blach. Tight as a drum head.’
    ‘Indeed, a horrid man. Who
are
you?’
    Instead of a reply, Bronque extended his arms, and his glittering eyes invited the Doctor to guess – a test. Svenson had no choice.
    ‘Very well. Your name tells me nothing, nor –
a priori
– does your rank. You are seen in a brothel in full dress, with another man whose clothing is expensive but undistinguished. Judging by the poor crease of your trousers, you have spent the night. One guess says your charge is a high-born
personage
bent upon his pleasures, requiring an especially trusted chaperone in these troubled days.’
    Bronque grinned with a wolfish satisfaction. ‘But why should I bother with you?’
    ‘Because, as a criminal, my presence opens your
personage
to scandal.’
    ‘Nonsense.’
    Svenson sighed. ‘Indeed, you would simply kill me.’
    ‘But I have
not
.’
    The Colonel’s intensity was oppressive. Svenson rubbed his eyes. It was early, and the better part of his mind was tangled with thoughts of blue glass. But then he had it.
    ‘Ah. Because you are not
here
at all.’
    ‘I beg your pardon?’
    ‘You have not come for the brothel’s wares. You have come for the tunnel.’
    ‘What tunnel?’
    ‘Under the Old Palace is a tunnel to the Royal Institute. At one point the Comte d’Orkancz used the Institute for his research, and employed the tunnel to ferry test subjects –’
    The Colonel looked accusingly at Gorine and Mahmoud. ‘Did
they
tell you that?’
    ‘Of course not. But it explains why the Old Palace continues to operate – you have demanded access to the tunnel in exchange. Which sets your companion in an entirely new light –