“Do you think it was Paul who left the note for me?” Sid asked, then, thinking aloud, “But how would he have known I was going to the computer science department?”
“Did you tell anyone?”
He shook his head. “But Anya could have mentioned it to Giulia.”
“Or he made an educated guess. Does he know much about you?”
Sid thought back to their night out, the chat over some whiskeyshots. “The basics, so yeah, he might have guessed, but why not talk to me? Or slip a note through the cottage door?”
“I don’t know. Not a lot about this makes sense, but what I know for sure is that the Institute has lied about Min, and lying about a young woman’s disappearance is a very serious thing to do, so you’ve got to wonder why.”
“Do you have theories?”
“They must be hiding something; I just don’t know what. Have you tried searching online for any of the women who work there? You won’t find much. That’s a red flag to me.”
Sid remembered Anya saying the same when the Institute first approached her, but he hadn’t given it much thought at the time, busy as he was with his PhD. After they’d been dazzled by the offer, it wasn’t something either of them had considered. We should have, he thought.Ishould have.
“Somebody’s done a very good job of keeping information about them out of the public domain,” she said.
“Min could easily have done it if she has a background like mine. She’s almost invisible online, too. Could the Institute be secretive because of something they’re working on?”
“They claim to work on manuscripts. If that’s true, what’s there to hide?”
“I don’t know.”
“I have a theory that Min could have been investing money for the Institute, possibly even laundering or day-trading. She told her brother she was using her experience in the trading world. He’d pressed her on it, because he couldn’t understand why someone like her ended up working here.”
“But Anya is just a historian. She really is here to study manuscripts. Why would she be in danger?”
“She might not be, but if I were Anya, at the very least I’d want to know who my employers really are, because the Institute is not what it seems.”
Chapter Eight
Anya
The man held my arm tightly as he marched me around the corner to where the car was waiting on a quiet street. There was nothing I could do. He was built like an ox. And when I saw Magnus in the car, I realized he was my father’s driver.
I tried to thump Magnus. I wasn’t a violent person, but I was scared enough that the impulse to lash out overtook me. He caught my arms easily, and it made me feel weak.
“You tried to run me over,” I said, and my voice shook with the accusation.
“No. That was a mistake. Another car, a different driver. I’m very sorry. There were a few of us looking for you. Diana said you’d run off and were very distressed. Do you understand? We were looking for you for your own good. Frightening you was a mistake.”
“You nearly killed me.”
“No. Not me. And he didn’t. He just frightened you.”
His grip on my wrists was strong and tightening.
“You’re hurting me.”
He dropped them. “I’m sorry.”
I lunged for the door handle and yanked it, but the door waslocked. I yanked again and again until Magnus said, “That won’t work,” and I slumped into the corner where the seat met the door.
A woman sat in the front passenger seat. She had an earpiece in. “Did you come into the shop looking for me?” I asked her. “Lying about me?” I added, but she didn’t answer. Nobody did. The indicator light ticked and the driver pulled the car out smoothly into the moving traffic.
“How did you find me?” I asked. I poked her shoulder. “I’m talking to you!”
