Tom went to the sliding doors and raised his binoculars towards the window. The curtains were still partially open and he could see the movement from within. As he watched, the figure of Zjelko Branko came up to the window and looked out onto the street before him. He paused for a minute and it felt to Tom that he was staring straight at him in the half-light of apartment 618. Branko pulled the garish, flowered curtains fully shut, and the moment passed.

Tom paused. He had to prompt a response, or nothing would be accomplished. He had to force the corrupt officer out and he could think of only one way to do that without compromising their position.

‘Pet, I need you to do something for me.’

‘Okay,’ she said, a little suspicion entering her voice.

‘Take my phone. Take a train a few stops from Old Street to, say, Moorgate, then come up to the street. Go where you can’t be seen, disengage airplane mode, and let it appear on the network. That will prompt contact. I need to stay here because of the language.’

‘I can do that. I’ll be an hour.’

Tom tossed her his iPhone, told her the PIN code and said, ‘Call me on the burner phone before you spark my phone up so I’m ready for whatever happens.’

‘Sure thing, boss man.’

‘And, Pet,’ Tom said as she was heading to the door.

She paused and turned to face him.

‘Be careful. Don’t engage with anyone; these are dangerous people.’ Tom spoke with a genuine concern which surprised them both.

Pet just smiled, turned on her heels, and left the apartment.

Tom continued to listen to the laser-bug feed, but they seemed to have quietened down and were watching a sports game by the sounds of it. An occasional cough or comment was all that ensued, giving him confidence that the listening device was still working.

About thirty minutes later his burner phone buzzed with a message from Pet.

‘Phone going live now, Pet.’

Tom sat patiently and waited but nothing seemed to change immediately. The sports game continued with the muted crowd noise and Aleks was heard saying, ‘The referee is a donkey, Papa,’ which received a grunt in reply.

Ten minutes later, Tom heard a faint electronic ringing sound followed by a ‘Yah,’ from Zjelko.

‘When? … Where is he? … How long ago? What? Not even a phone call? So, he just switched his phone on and received messages. What were they? What do you mean, you don’t fucking know? What are we paying you for, Mr Pig?’

‘Right. We’re on it. Make sure we’re not interrupted and make sure—’ He stopped abruptly, the call obviously over.

Zjelko said, ‘Novak is moving; he’s close to Moorgate Station. Come on, let’s go. I’ll call Dedic.’