As he finished sifting through the ninth and last drawer’s contents, his heart was beginning to sink. Nothing. Coming here had been a waste of time. Of which he was running out. Six minutes gone. Time to get out of here.

He slid the drawer shut. Then pulled it open and shut it again. Something was preventing it from closing properly, but he couldn’t see what. It was only when he lowered himself right down and shone the torch towards the back of the drawer that he noticed the thick manila envelope that had been hidden in a recess of the desk, like a false bottom. It must have got shunted out of place during his search of the drawers, or else he’d never have found it. He said, ‘Hello,’ and reached inside and pulled it out.

Nearly seven minutes gone. But when Ben examined the documents inside the envelope he realised he’d got lucky. Bingo. He took the sheet he needed and folded it into his jacket pocket.

Less than a minute later, he was back in the conference room downstairs. Heading for the window. Stepping out onto the balcony into the cold night air. The rain was still spitting down. The sky over Rue de Rivoli and the Champs Élysées was red and blue with flashing lights. He could hear the ongoing whoop of sirens in the middle distance; so far they weren’t coming for him. Closer by, the other side of the wall of ICS’s gardens, the street was still empty.

Ben stepped up onto the balcony rail and made the leap back to the tree. The jump sent a sharp jolt of pain through him from his wounds, but the leather gloves mercifully saved his hands from getting torn up by the rough bark of the beech branches. He scrambled back down until he was six feet from the ground, let go and landed softly on bent knees and made for the wall. Seconds later he was back out in the street and heading back the way he’d come, towards the car.

Just under nine minutes, in, out and gone. Mission complete.

On Rue de Rivoli it looked as if the police had succeeded in pushing the crowds into retreat, dispersing them with water cannon and CS as a phalanx of emergency vehicles moved up to clear the battle zone. The riot had been short lived. Another night’s drama now coming to a close.

While, by contrast, Ben’s evening was just getting started.

Chapter 29

Ben hurried back to the car. He was feeling the painkillers wearing off, and so popped two more before he headed for his next stop.