“Any problems?” asked Torgos as he handed the boy a pound note.

“Nah,” said the boy, handing him the bag. “Could’ve grabbed her purse if I felt like it. Might’ve been worth it. She looked posh.”

“You do exactly what I tell you to do,” said Torgos. “No more, no less. Now go home.”

“Yes, Uncle,” said the boy.

Tadeo put the car in gear while Torgos looked inside the bag.

It was filled with crumpled tissue paper, in which nestled a pair of women’s shoes. There was a small envelope tucked into one of them. He grimaced, then opened it. Inside was a note in a woman’s handwriting.

“‘Nice try. Now bring the shoes back and go wait by your telephone,’” he read aloud.

“These ladies seem to know what they’re doing,” said Tadeo, absentmindedly rubbing the bruise Sparks had left on his jaw. “What now?”

“We will return the shoes and go wait by our telephone,” said Torgos. “As instructed. No more, no less.”

Iris was typing a letter on her Bar-Let when Gwen came in.

“How did it go?” she asked.

“I couldn’t speak to Vivienne Ducognon. They were already there.”

“Not surprising. Were you followed there?”

“I may have been. I didn’t notice anyone in particular, but I wasn’t trying to look behind me.”

“I expect you were, which is fine. You didn’t do anything other than what you would be likely to do, so they’ll think we’re still on the hunt. I was trailed from the moment I left my flat. We’ll have to ditch them when we leave tonight. I’ll let Archie know.”

“Good. Also, my Hamleys bag was snatched outside a minute ago.”

“It was?” exclaimed Iris. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” said Gwen.

“But the letters—”

“They’re safe,” said Gwen. “The bag was a decoy. Iris—I’m afraid your shoes were in it.”

“Now it’s war,” said Iris grimly.

“Any word from Archie?”

“Everything will be ready tonight,” said Iris. “I am going to hand-deliver this invitation, then come back. We’ll make the rest of the calls after lunch. See you in a while.”

The Brigadier was going over reports when his secretary knocked.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Miss Sparks,” she replied, handing him a number on a piece of paper. “You have four minutes.”

He looked at his watch, then went back to his reports for precisely three and a half minutes. Then he dialed the number.

“Good morning, sir,” said Iris.

“Why are you calling me, Sparks?” he asked.

“It’s me conscience, guvnor,” she said. “Couldn’t sleep a wink thinking about what I done.”

“Cease the charade, if you don’t mind,” he said wearily.

“Fine, I’ll get to the point. I may not, strictly speaking, have told you the entire truth last night.”

“You astonish me.”

“Ah, I’ve driven you to sarcasm. It concerns that man in the picture. I was telling the truth about not knowing where he was. But I might know someone who knows someone.”

“Who?”