Sam, Remi, and Hauptmann Klein took the narrow elevator to the fourth floor and walked to an open doorway, where a police officer waited. He stepped aside, and they entered. The six Americans Sam and Remi had first seen in the boat off Louisiana were seated in the room, three on the couch and three at the small table by the window. Now that they were close and in a well-lighted room, Sam could see they showed red spots from mosquito bites, severe sunburns, and a number of scratches from struggling through thick foliage.

“Do you recognize these people?” asked Klein.

“I do,” said Remi.

“So do I,” Sam said.

“Yes,” said Captain Klein. “As you predicted, they’re carrying identification from Consolidated Enterprises in New York, and I’m sorry to say all six are here. I had hoped one or two of them would be with your missing friend.”

The young blond woman at the table stood up, angry. “What are these people doing here?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Fargo reported a professor missing. Do you know them?”

“Yes,” she said. “They stole our boat and stranded us in a Louisiana swamp. We could easily have died out there.”

“And now they’ve gotten you detained in a foreign country for a very serious crime. If I were you, I would stay far away from them.”

“Falsely detained!” said the tall man with the shaved head. “I demand to have our lawyer present.”

“Falsely or truly detained, still detained,” said Klein. “We are simply attempting to eliminate one possible set of suspects. Trust me, if you are eliminated now, you will have good cause to thank us. Kidnapping a world-renowned German scholar is not something you want to be tried for in Berlin.”

Klein stepped away from them and beckoned to the Fargos. They went out into the hallway and closed the door. He said, “My men thoroughly searched their rooms. They found no bones, no rusty objects, and no notes or maps.”

Sam said, “I don’t think these people abducted Albrecht Fischer. We saw two of them following us on Unter den Linden to our hotel. Then we saw the other four walk to our hotel and split up. They didn’t seem to be moving against Albrecht, but they could have taken him soon after we left the laboratory.”

“They could easily be a surveillance team for a much larger conspiracy,” said Klein. “They’ve still offered no good explanation as to why they’re following you and spying on you. They’re clearly rivals looking for a discovery to steal, and Albrecht Fischer had a discovery. I’m going to take them to the station and spend some time finding out what they’re up to.”

“We certainly have no objection,” said Remi.

“We’ll also have officials watching the borders for the professor. If his kidnappers have had him for a couple of hours, though, he could be gone already.” Klein looked at them shrewdly. “But you’ve figured that out. You’re leaving Berlin too, aren’t you?”

Sam said, “Someone kidnapped Albrecht Fischer and stole his notes, specimens, and photographs. I don’t know if it was friends of these people or someone else entirely. But I do know where they’re taking him.”

“Then I wish you the best of luck. If it were my friend, that’s where I would go. Good night.”

SZEGED, HUNGARY

SAM AND REMI CHECKED OUT OF THE ADLON KEMPINSKI Hotel late that night and took a cab to the Hauptbahnhof, where Sam had lost his follower that afternoon. They got on the southbound Stadtbahn, but rode it only to Schönefeld Airport, where they caught a plane to Budapest. It was just an hour and a half to Ferihegy. They took a train from the airport to Nyugati Station in Budapest and then got on the next train that would take them the one hundred seventy kilometers to the city of Szeged near the southern border.

They walked out of the station in the morning to see lined-up cabs waiting for travelers. Sam left the suitcases with Remi and walked up the line saying to each driver, “Do you speak English?” When he saw a driver shake his head or look puzzled, he went to the next one. At the fourth cab, there was a dark, thin middle-aged man with sad-looking brown eyes and a mustache that looked like a brush. He was leaning against his cab, and there were three other drivers with him, listening to a story he was telling and laughing. When he heard Sam’s question, he raised his hand. “Are you just curious or do you speak English?”

“I speak English,” Sam said.

“Good. Then you can correct me if I make a mistake.”

The man’s English was perfect. His slight accent showed he had learned the language from a British teacher. “So far, you could correct me,” Sam said.

“Where can I take you?”

“First, to our hotel. After that, we would like to take a look at the city.”

“Good. City Hotel Szeged, then.”

“How did you know?”

“It’s a good, respectable hotel, and you look like smart people.” He took their suitcases and put them in the trunk of his car, then drove. “You’ll be glad you made time to see Szeged. It’s the place where the best sausage and the best paprika come from.”

“I like the architecture,” said Remi. “The buildings have such interesting colors, mostly pastels, and baroque styles with all the intricate details that make them very distinctive.”

“It’s partly a good thing and partly bad,” said the driver. “The bad part happened first. In March 1879, the river—the Tisza, over that way—flooded and destroyed the whole city. The good part is that afterward, the people thought hard about what they were building.”

“It worked. For a city with a hundred seventy-five thousand people, it’s gorgeous.”

“You’ve been reading guidebooks.”

She shrugged. “It’s a way to pass the time on the train.”

He stopped in front of the City Hotel, took the Fargos’ two suitcases out of the trunk and set them in the doorway, and then handed Sam a card. “Here is my card. My name is Tibor Lazar. You can ask the people at the front desk about me and they’ll say I’m honest and reliable. I know that because two of them are cousins.”

“Thank you,” said Remi. “Should we call when we’re ready or will you wait for us?”

“I’ll wait here.”

A bellman was already carrying their suitcases to the front desk. They registered and went up to their room.

Sam sat on the bed and began to look at Google maps on his iPad. Remi whispered, “What are you looking for?”

“The field. We know that sooner or later, the kidnappers will take Albrecht to his find so he can show them where he’s dug.”

“Can you see where it is on the map?”

“I’m trying. It was on the east side of the Tisza River, north of the Mura River. I remember it in relation to the place where the two meet. He used that to orient his chart.”

“I’ve got something you want,” she said. “When we were in the lab and asked Albrecht if we could share the details with Selma, I took a picture of the chart with my phone so she’d know the spot we were referring to.” She took out her phone and showed him the picture of the chart.

He kissed her cheek. “Perfect.” He used his phone to call Selma and put her on speaker.

“Selma here. Fire away.”

“Hi, Selma. Did you get the drawing of a site from Remi last night?”

“Yes. I assume that’s the site Albrecht’s been working on?”

“That’s right,” Sam said. “He said it would be fine to bring you in on this, so Remi sent it right away. The problem is that last night the reason Albrecht didn’t come to dinner was that he was kidnapped from the lab in Berlin. The police have been watching plane and train stations, but I’m afraid these people got Albrecht out of Germany before we reported it.”

“Was it those people from Consolidated Enterprises?”

“I’m not sure. I can’t see that group of people doing something that would put them in a foreign prison for life. But the cops are detaining them for a while to be sure, which is fine with us.”