‘More coffee?’ Tom asked as he walked over to her table.

‘Why not? It’s not like I’m jittery enough, is it?’ she said, her eyes wide.

Tom bought two cappuccinos and sat opposite her.

‘Nice vest,’ she said. ‘Got a new job?’

‘Urban camouflage,’ said Tom. ‘You got 4G on the Mac?’

‘I have more than you would probably understand, Detective,’ she smiled with mock smugness.

‘Good. Can you get me the name of the large block of flats in the tower block up the road? It’s modern and brand new by the look of it.’

Pet’s fingers tapped at the keyboard, and Tom could vaguely see the reflection of the screen in her spectacles as she typed.

‘I assume from what you’ve said it’s Canaletto Tower. It’s a thirty-one-storey building, finished recently. It was in the news a lot as most of the flats were sold to foreign investors; half of them are never lived in.’

‘We need to get in there: it’s going to be perfect for our purposes. Are there any we can rent or am I going to have to break in?’ he asked.

‘Hold on, Detective, I’m sure we can come up with something,’ she said, tapping at the keys. ‘It’s fully managed with twenty-four-hour concierge and looks busy. You want an easy option?

‘Of course. Easy options are my favourite.’

‘There’s one to rent with Airbnb. On the sixth floor. We can get in by three this afternoon.’

Tom paused. There would definitely be an appropriate vantage point within the building, even if it wasn’t in the flat they rented. Once safely inside he would have free rein to find the perfect location. The surfeit of empty properties left vacant by foreign investors would work well for Tom’s purposes, if not the capital’s housing crisis.

‘Book it. We need somewhere to stay in any case.’

She tapped on the keys some more.

‘Done. I’ve booked two nights and my employers are even going to pick up the tab. We are lucky that Mike has access to some deniable funding that won’t attract anybody’s attention. Don’t ask how much it cost.’

*

Tom and Pet walked into the reception of the stunning thirty-one-storey building, marvelling at the sweeping glass and steel structure stretching up more than a hundred metres above London. Tom lugged a holdall in which he’d secreted the laser device, together with his grab-bag and a few items of clothing.

The reception was all sleek surfaces and polished teak, with a shiny marble floor and a hushed atmosphere of style. Even more of a bonus had been the underground car park he’d deposited the Passat in, keeping it off the street and out of sight.

Pet approached the receptionist and collected the keys while Tom watched the flat-screen TV on the wall, which was showing the rolling news.