The Rembrandt Affair

than ever. And if she was at all frightened by what lay ahead, she gave no sign of it. She resolutely stepped onto Gabriel’s conveyor belt and was whisked one last time from room to room, briefing to briefing. Her night ended, as usual, in the upstairs study. Gabriel switched off the lights and listened carefully while she rehearsed for a final time.
    “Done,” she said. “How long did it take?”
    “Two minutes, fourteen seconds.”
    “That’s good?”
    “Very good.”
    “Did you hear anything?”
    “Not a sound.”
    “Are we finished?”
    “Not quite.” Gabriel switched on the lights and looked at her thoughtfully. “It’s not too late to change your mind, Zoe. We’ll find some other way of getting to him. And I promise that none of us will think any less of you.”
    “Yes, but I might.” She was silent for a moment. “You should know something about me, Mr. Allon. Once I’ve made a decision, I stick to it. I never break promises, and I hate to make mistakes.”
    “We share that affliction.”
    “I thought so.”
    Zoe picked up the rehearsal phone. “Any last-minute advice?”
    “My team has prepared you well, Zoe.”
    “Yes, they have.” She looked up at him. “But they’re not you.”
    Gabriel took the phone from her grasp. “Once you start, move quietly but quickly. Don’t creep around like a cat burglar. Visualize your actions before you take them. And don’t think about the bodyguards. We’ll worry about the bodyguards. All you have to worry about is Martin. Martin is your responsibility.”
    “I’m not sure I can pretend to be in love with him.”
    “Humans are natural liars. They mislead and dissemble hundreds of times each day without even realizing it. Martin Landesmann happens to be an extraordinary liar. But with your help, we can beat him at his own game. The mind is like a basin, Zoe. It can be filled and emptied at will. When you walk into his apartment tomorrow night, we don’t exist. Only Martin. You just have to be in love with him one more night.”
    “And after that?”
    “You go back to your life and pretend none of it ever happened.”
    “And what if that’s not possible?”
    “The mind is like a basin, Zoe. Pull the plug, and the memory drains away.”
    With that, Gabriel walked her downstairs and helped her into the back of an MI5 Rover. As usual, Zoe immediately switched on her mobile phone to conduct a bit of work during the short drive home to Hampstead. Because the device had spent a few minutes in the capable hands of Mordecai earlier that evening, the team now knew Zoe’s altitude, latitude, longitude, and the speed at which she was traveling. They were also able to hear everything she was saying to her MI5 minder and were able to monitor both ends of a call she placed to her editor in chief, Jason Turnbury. Within five minutes of the call’s termination, they had downloaded her e-mail, text messages, and several months’ worth of Internet activity. They also downloaded several dozen photographs, including one she snapped six months earlier of a shirtless Martin Landesmann sunning himself on the deck of his chalet in Gstaad.
    The presence of the photograph on Zoe’s telephone provoked a fierce debate among Gabriel’s team, which they conducted in a terse form of colloquial Hebrew no MI5 listener would ever be able to translate. Yaakov, a man with a complicated personal life of his own, moved for immediate termination of the entire operation. “There’s just one reason why a woman would keep a picture like that. She’s still in love with him. And if you send her into his apartment tomorrow night, she’ll sink us all.” But it was Dina—Dina of the much-broken heart—who talked Yaakov down from his ledge. “Sometimes a woman likes to stare at a man she hates just as much as one she loves. Zoe Reed hates Martin more than she’s ever hated anyone in her life. And she wants to bring him down just as much as we do.”
    Oddly enough, it was Zoe herself who settled the dispute an hour later, when Martin phoned from Geneva to say how much he was looking forward to seeing her in Paris. The call was brief; Zoe’s performance, exemplary. After severing the connection, she immediately dialed Highgate to report the call, then settled into bed for a few hours of sleep. As she switched off her bedside lamp, they overheard a single word that left little doubt about her true feelings for Martin Landesmann.
    “Bastard…”
    The following morning