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'Are the sleighs taking us to Valhalla?'

Joachim smiled. We're only a few miles away but it's important the furs are fastened correctly. You'll be out in the cold for over an hour so when you've put them on let Stein check them.'

Like excited schoolgirls, Isabella and the others donned the furs. They were lined with quilted silk, and when Isabella zipped the inner lining and buttoned the outer fur, she felt as if she was wearing a sleeping-bag. The lower hem could be folded out and buttoned over her feet. The hood covered her head and the cuffs contained glove linings. It was an exquisite sensation, rather like being embraced by a huge teddy bear.

'I wonder, if we asked nicely, whether Odin would let us take these home with us,' said Gisele, stroking hers. When she smiled her teeth looked almost unnaturally white against her dark skin. 'They'd go down great in Aspen.'

Isabella was so wound up in the general excitement of putting on the coats that, for a moment, she forgot her suspicions about Helmut and Phoebe. Then she noticed Joachim stoop over his aluminium case. From the corner of her eye she watched him tap a code into the small alphanumeric keypad: three, forward slash, back slash, zero, one. He opened the case, turned it towards Stein, then closed it again. It happened so fast that she couldn't see much of what was in the case, but she glimpsed a laptop. She committed the code to memory as Stein asked to check her fastenings. He focused on the hood area behind the neck and Isabella felt his hand go inside her coat and touch her skin. He was quick and businesslike, then gave a tight smile. 'Alles in Ordnung.' Then he moved on to Kathryn.

As Joachim put on his coat, Isabella glanced at his case again. The laptop she had glimpsed looked like one of the new Toshiba Tecras with face-recognition security. It was a powerful system, which her hospital was considering for its consultants. Did the computer in Joachim's case contain proof of Helmut Kappel's abuse of the drug?

She was so focused on the case and its contents that she didn't see Stein reach behind Kathryn's neck to check her hood fastening, then slip a spent PowerDermic vaccine gun into his pocket and move on to Claire.

As Isabella followed the others outside, planning how to access Joachim's laptop, she was oblivious to the fact that she and her friends had just been injected with ML #069.

SOME HOURS EARLIER

The man reached him first and shook his hand. 'Good morning, Max. Is the best man all ready for the wedding?'

Max smiled, but his stomach was churning. 'I hope so.'

The man's wife was next and she kissed him on both cheeks.

But it was their daughter who made him want to avert his eyes. 'Max! Isn't it great that we're on the same flight?'

'Yes,' Max said, with a heavy heart, as he looked at her beautiful face and surrendered to the inevitable. 'Yes, it is, Delphine.'

MAXKAPPEL WAS WOKEN BY HIS UNCLE KLAUS AND TWO STASI. IT was four in the morning and his head was thick. A shower helped, but he was still confused. In the car from Schloss Kappel to Zurich airport, Klaus explained that his father and Phoebe had already left and that Max was booked on the six o'clock flight to Norway with him and his wife.

Max was still trying to gather his thoughts as he stood at the Swissair first-class check-in desk in the airport terminal. Something bad had happened to him, he knew that much, but what?

Klaus jogged his elbow and pointed to three people entering the terminal building. . 'Your father thought you might appreciate the company.'

As the trio approached, he tried to reconfigure his mind and place them in context. When they came into focus, he felt as though ice-cold water had been splashed into his face, and remembered what his father had done to him. He considered closing his eyes, but that was pointless: he couldn't fight it.

FOR ALMOST AN HOUR, ACCOMPANIED BY THE YELP OF DOGS AND THE crunch of steel runners on fresh snow, the three sleighs slid through a silent landscape of majestic mountains, glacial valleys and dense, snow-frosted forests. Eventually they reached a gentle rise and Isabella looked down on their final destination.

It was a breathtaking scene. To her right, in the shimmering distance, she could see the Atlantic Ocean, and to her left, towering peaks huddled together. Between them, a river flowed into a large round bowl, surrounded by closer white-capped mountains, whose sheer sides dropped straight into the water.

Except that it was no longer water. The lake had fro2en, and in the centre she saw a small island upon which stood the crystal palace. She had read that Valhalla was made of insulated glass, frosted resin blocks and hardwood, but from this distance, sparkling in the dying sunlight, it fused with the island, which in turn melded into the icy lake, so the palace appeared to sprout out of the frozen plane like a huge inverted icicle, its central spire a vast translucent stalagmite reaching to the heavens.

As the sleighs wound their way down to the lakeside and crossed on to the ice, Joachim pointed to a smaller dome beside the island. In the sunlight it, glistened like a diamond dewdrop. 'That's the wedding chapel. It's made of ice.'

Now that they were on the lake, Isabella was struck by how large it was. She glanced back at the sleigh's tracks and heard water rushing beneath the surface of the ice. She shivered. 'Joachim, the water underneath us sounds so fierce.'

'It is.' He pointed to the east, where the river entered the lake, then to the west, where a fjord formed a channel to the sea. 'The current's strong because the river and the sea meet in this bowl.'

'Is the ice safe?'

'It's been an unusually mild winter, and the contractors had to wait for it to thicken before they could build the chapel, but it's safe now. The Gulf Stream stops the coast freezing, but this inland bowl always ices over in winter.' He pointed to the narrow fjord. 'Over there it's pretty thin, but it's fine here and in the centre.'

As the sleighs neared the island, Valhalla loomed tall. Kathryn was right, Isabella thought, it looked more like a hotel than a house and was designed in tiers like a wedding cake. Arched windows lined the lower level, which was modelled on a vast, inverted Viking long-ship. The upper structures, supported by crystal flying buttresses and crowned by the translucent Gothic spire, were angular, with pointed lancet windows. The shimmering walls gave the illusion of transparency while reflecting the light like mirrors, revealing nothing.

A roaring whup, whup, whup broke the brittle silence. Then a helicopter appeared and landed on the ice beside the chapel. Isabella saw it disgorge six people and their luggage, then take off again, heading south. She wondered if Max was waiting in Valhalla.

The dogs yelped and the sleighs halted. As Isabella stepped gingerly on to the icy ground, Gisele caught her eye and whispered, 'I'll say this for Helmut Kappel. The old guy may be weird but he chose a pretty cool place for his wedding.'

'THEY'LL BE HERE SOON, PHOEBE.'

'I know, Helmut. I just wish more of my friends and family were coming.'

Helmut Kappel looked down from the mezzanine level at the guests entering the reception hall of Valhalla. Odin greeted them individually, while his staff, resplendent in furs and gleaming Viking breastplates of his own design, conducted the formalities. The receptionist photographed each guest's face with a digital camera linked wirelessly to the main computer. Then porters took the guests' luggage and showed them to their rooms. 'We've already discussed this. I chose Valhalla to give you a spectacular wedding, but space is limited. Your mother refused to come. There are guests I had to invite, and you agreed to let me handle everything.'

Yes, but you're either with your family or your clients. I hardly ever see you, darling.'

'I can't be with you all the time. I've other responsibilities.' He lowered his voice and looked into her eyes, speaking as a parent to a child. 'If you don't like it, Phoebe, we can still call it off. No one's forcing you to marry me. We don't have to be together.'

'But we do,' she said quickly. He enjoyed the panic that crossed her face. He would tire of it soon, but it still pleased him to have total control of this exquisite creature. He looked down on the atrium and saw Odin greet a target client: Warren Hudsucker. The senator was alone. Excellent. Helmut smiled. 'Relax, Phoebe. The wedding will be magnificent, and after it's over, we'll see much more of each other.'

'Promise, darling? I love you so much.'

'I know. Now, why don't you wait for your friends in your room while I greet some of my guests? I promise to come to you when the bridesmaids arrive.'

'Don't be long.'

'I won't,' he said, and walked away from her down the huge glass staircase to the hall. As he passed a sheer translucent pillar he checked his reflection in the resin surface. Adrenaline surged through him when he considered the carefully selected guest list. Although there would be fewer than a hundred guests, they had flown in from Tokyo, Los Angeles, New York, London, Paris, Moscow, Delhi, Cape Town, Buenos Aires and Sydney. No corner of the world had been overlooked.

One of the three professional photographers hired to record the event snapped him. A Japanese client with links to the Yakuza Mafia stopped to congratulate him and compliment him on the choice of venue.

'I owe it all to Odin's generosity,' he replied, as he reached Hudsucker and the Norwegian designer.

Odin flicked back his mane of strawberry-blond hair and smiled modestly. 'It's a pleasure.' In fact, Kappel Privatbank had paid Odin a significant fee to hire Valhalla. The proceeds from the photographs would also be split with the designer, and he would benefit from the publicity when eventually Valhalla opened as a boutique hotel.

Helmut turned to Hudsucker and shook the senator's hand. 'Warren, so glad you could make it. Has the receptionist taken your picture yet? Good, in that case let me show you to" your room. Someone will bring your bags for you.'

Hudsucker followed him. His usual confidence had deserted him, his face looked pale beneath the tan. He seemed tired and nervy. Helmut led him to a room on the first tier. 'You're in room eight. It has one of the best views.' He pointed to the sensor pad and monitor by the door. The model, InterFace 3000, was printed beneath the pad. 'Odin's a stickler for security. Place your hand over that sensor pad and the computer will compare the genetic facial profile in your DNA with the photograph the receptionist look when you registered.' Hudsucker did as he was told and his face appeared on the monitor. Then the door clicked open. 'Only you can enter the room.'

Hudsucker stepped inside and stared out of the large picture window at the darkening mountains. 'You're right. It is a fantastic view.'

'If we're lucky we might see the Northern Lights. You have to be above the Arctic Circle to guarantee a sighting, but Odin says that they're occasionally visible here at this time of year.'

Hudsucker took off his jacket and threw it on to the bed. His wallet and a creased photograph slid out of the inside pocket. He replaced them, but not before Helmut had seen the picture. Well thumbed, it had obviously been unfolded and scrutinized countless times. It was the one Max had sent Hudsucker with his invitation, a picture of the bridesmaids, focusing on Isabella Bacci's face.

'Good trip?'

Hudsucker nodded.

'You decided against bringing your wife?'

'She wanted to come but it was difficult. Kids' school starts soon.'

'Sure, sure. Anyway, I invited you, Warren. I wanted you to share in my good fortune. This is a magical place.' Helmut gazed at the snow-covered terrace and the view beyond. 'May I speak frankly?' Hudsucker sat on the bed and frowned. 'Sure.' 'I've a feeling something important is going to happen to you here. I feel this because something important has happened to me. I know the world doesn't understand how I managed to win Phoebe -- they think I must have some dark secret.' He patted Hudsucker's shoulder. 'If I did I certainly wouldn't share it with everybody. But if, for example, a client of mine found himself preoccupied with someone -- as I was with Phoebe -- someone they couldn't stop thinking about, someone whose face filled their waking hours and interfered with their work and sleep, I'd want to help them.'

Hudsucker was staring at him. His eyes narrowed. He was evidendy uncertain as to where this was heading. 'How?'

'In any way I could,' Helmut said earnestly. 'For example, let's say you desired one of the bridesmaids at my wedding. I wouldn't stand in your way. In fact I'd help make it happen.'

The colour drained from Hudsucker's face. 'But I'm married and I've never even met any of the bridesmaids.'

'Come, come, Warren, I'm playing "what if. I'm certainly not trying to judge you. I just want to share with you the secret of my happiness. Play a game with me, Warren. How much would you give to meet the object of your love? Let's say . . .' he looked Hudsucker in the eye '. . . it's Isabella Bacci.' Her name hung in the air between them. 'How much would you give to meet her and have her return the love that has tormented you for the last few weeks?'

Hudsucker's jaw dropped, but he said nothing.

Helmut continued: 'If I said you could meet Isabella Bacci tonight, have two days of bliss, then leave with her and live happily ever after together, how much would that lifelong happiness be worth to you? A million dollars?A billion? Everything you own? More?'

Hudsucker sat statue still, stunned.

'Apologies, Warren, you must be tired. I'll let you get some rest.' He had to prime the other three target clients before the cocktail party. 'Forgive me for talking nonsense. I'm just overexcited about marrying Phoebe. I still can't believe that someone like her, who could have had anyone in the world, chose me. See you tonight.'