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his eyes were dark pools reflecting the lamplight.
    “They told us only ‘Tamar.’ I prayed it would be you. I begged God to let it be you.”
    Tamar said, “There was no way I could let you know.”
    “No. But when I saw you get out of the car with Koop, I almost fainted.”
    Tamar let go of the stair rail and came down the last step. They were very close now.
    “Has anything changed?”
    Tamar smiled. “Many things.”
    “No. You know what I mean. Between us. Do you —”
    “Yes,” Tamar said, and something inside him opened, something he’d kept locked for a long time. “I still love you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you. It’s been like living with a part of my body missing.”
    He reached out and gently removed the cap, releasing a fall of dark hair that came almost to the narrow shoulders, framing the pale oval face in which the eyes now closed. He put his hands under the hair, cupping her head. He tried to say her name, but his throat was tight and he had to try again.
    “Marijke. Dear God. Marijke.” It was the first time in almost a year he had spoken the word.
    Their two monstrous shadows, thrown by the lamp onto the far wall of the barn, merged into one and became motionless. Then Marijke spoke, but her face was pressed into his chest and he could not make out the words. He held her away from his body slightly. “What?”
    “I didn’t even know if you were dead or alive,” she said, almost angrily.
    “Nor did I.”
    From above them came a muffled creaking. Marijke pulled away, taking the cap from Tamar’s hand. “I must go to the house,” she said, glancing up to where light was brightening at the head of the stairs. “My grandmother will be very anxious by now.”
    “How is she?”
    “The same. She will probably cry when she sees you.” She stepped away from him, then paused. “Are you still Christiaan Boogart?”
    “Yes.”
    She smiled for the first time. “Good. I liked him.”
    She was across the barn and through the door by the time Dart began to descend the stairs.
    “Tamar? Tamar, are you all right?”
    Tamar drew in a long breath, as if he were about to dive into cold water, then turned to look up at Dart. “Yes. Fine. Is the set up to scratch?”
    “It works perfectly. I thought you were going to see how Koop was doing.” The upward light from the lantern he carried turned Dart’s face into a yellow-and-black mask that was both comical and sinister.
    “Yes. I just stopped to get my breath.”
    “Well, it’s been quite a night, one way or another.”
    Tamar almost laughed. “That is something of an understatement, my friend.”
    At the door of the barn, Tamar hung both lanterns on nails hammered into the wall. Then he extinguished them. The two men stood, invisible to each other, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the darkness.

 
     
    The journey to the Mendlo Mental Asylum took twenty minutes but seemed much longer on the narrow back roads. Dart saw a line of massive plane trees just before the car swung right between two tall brick gateposts. Then an impression of dark windows in a long brick wall. Ahead of them, the ambulance turned right again and vanished. Wim brought the German car to a halt beside what looked like a greenhouse. Koop was now very anxious about the nearness of dawn. Like a vampire, Dart thought. He even looks a bit like one.
    A glass door was opened by a nun. She called softly, “Dr. Lubbers?” Dart went up two steps to the door and shook the hand she held out to him. “I am Sister Agatha. Please come in.”
    She led him into a conservatory, where silvery-green plants cast complicated moon shadows. Oskar followed them, carrying two small black suitcases that he set down on the floor.
    “Dr. Veening is catching up on some sleep,” Sister Agatha said. “He asked me to wake him when you arrived. You’ll probably be more comfortable waiting in here.”
    She opened a door. Dart followed her through into complete darkness. Then there was