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himself a few moments of madness. You have to live up to expectations. It’s all about knowing what the boundaries are. Otherwise they’ll have you strapped down in a straitjacket before you know it, your life of luxury replaced by the torture chamber in the cellar.”
    “Is that true?” Daniel said, then realized it was a joke.
    To cover up his mistake he quickly went on: “So why are you really here, Max? You seem to be doing very well.”
    Max’s taunting smile vanished. He stretched, then said seriously: “I’m working in Italy these days, maybe you know? With olive oil.”
    “No, I didn’t know, actually,” Daniel said in surprise.
    “It’s a tough business. Particularly for a foreigner like me. I’ve done pretty well, if I do say so myself, but success has its costs. It’s not exactly a forty-hour week. Recently I’ve been working round the clock.”
    “Oh,” Daniel said quietly. He knew what it usually meant when Max worked round the clock.
    “I hit the wall, as the saying goes. The same’s true of most people here at the clinic. The working environment for business executives is completely inhumane these days. And I’m not talking about Sweden here, which is a kindergarten compared to the rest of Europe. Down here no one manages to stay at the top for long. No one talks about it openly, but most people fall apart every so often. It’s built into the system. We’re like Formula One cars, we have to go into the pits at regular intervals to change tires and take on more fuel. Then we’re ready to get going again.”
    Max made a rolling gesture with his finger and laughed, pleased with his own imagery.
    “So this is the pit stop?” Daniel said, looking round the restaurant, where they were now the only guests.
    “Yep. Himmelstal is a pit stop. Possibly the best in Europe. Now for coffee and something stronger.” Max slapped his hand down on the table. “But not here,” he added. “I know a nice little place down in the village. Come on.”
    He screwed up his napkin and stood.
    Daniel looked round for the waitress. He felt like he should pay for dinner but wasn’t sure how things worked here.
    “In the village?” Daniel said. “Can you really leave the clinic just like that?”
    Max laughed.
    “Of course. That’s the whole point of Himmelstal. Put it on my tab, darling,” he called to the invisible waitress, then marched toward the exit.

8
    MOSELLE WINE. Cool, refreshing, like it had been drawn from a well deep in the earth.
    Gisela Obermann wished she still had the Bohemian crystal glasses she’d inherited, instead of the dull, mass-produced glasses of the staff quarters. But she’d given the old glasses away to charity, and they had been sold to raise funds. She had given everything away when she got the chance to work at Himmelstal. She had gotten rid of her beautiful apartment and put an end to a damaging long-term relationship. The only things she kept were a few decent items of clothing, some psychiatric textbooks, and her cat, Snowflake.
    “I’ve burned my boats,” she said to herself.
    She loved that expression. In the past generals would burn their boats so that their men wouldn’t be tempted to set off for home when the fighting got too tough. She could see the burning boats before her, flames reflected in the water. A beautiful, terrifying sight.
    Gisela lay down on her bed and curled up beside her long-haired cat, breathing in its faint, clean smell. Unlike dogs, cats always smelled good. She’d have liked to have a cat-scented perfume.
    The cat purred, its soft white coat vibrating gently against her face.
    The window was ajar. A blackbird was singing outside. She could hear voices and the sound of metal scraping against stone. Then she picked up the smell of burning charcoal. Yet another staff party. She wasn’t thinking of going.
    She closed her eyes, letting the cat’s fur caress her cheek and pretending it was Doctor Kalpak’s hand.
    She would never see