We’d always had cars waiting to take us from the station to the Brandt villa. This time, I hired my own and directed it. When I arrived, the gates at the end of the drive were closed and I didn’t know the man who approached the car.
“I am Miss Jüül,” I told him. “I work here.”
He had his chin raised, and though he seemed to be looking directly at my face, it seemed as if he couldn’t see me. I sat in silence until he said, “Wait here.” I paid the driver, took my bag and got out of the car.
The guard hadn’t returned and I gave the gate a nudge, discovered he’d left it unlatched. No harm going in. I walked the length of the drive around the fountain, dry of water, and wondered if I should go to the front door or around the side, through the courtyard. I went in through the front. It was
