‘Good question. From what Françoise Schell told me, I thought Segal was helping Nazim trade in stolen historical relics. If it’s really all about drugs, I can’t understand how the two relate.’

Roth jerked a discreet thumb back over his shoulder in Margot Segal’s direction. ‘You think she knows?’

‘I don’t believe she’s got the smallest clue what he’s involved in. But I mean to find out.’

‘I got another good question for you,’ Roth said. ‘How in hell did they manage to get all this stuff down here in the first place? Not to mention the container-load or two of dope they’re apparently expecting to get their hands on any day now. Don’t tell me they’re fixing to lug it all through the tunnels. There’s got to be another way in, right? One that our friend Jafari didn’t know about. Dollars to doughnuts the morons guarding the lady didn’t know about it either. Operational security. You don’t trust footsoldiers with information above their pay grade.’

Ben knew that Roth had to be right.

And that was when he saw the leaf.

Chapter 43

Autumn in Paris. The stuff of romance. The explosive reds and golds of the capital’s half-million trees at this special time of year had inspired lovers, dreamers and poets going back centuries. Songs had been written and movies made about it. To go strolling beneath the orange-hued canopies of the Tuileries Garden or wander the paths of the Parc Monceau with the crisp crunch of the magical golden carpet underfoot was to drink in the quintessential flavour of the City of Light. From October through November, the autumn leaves were everywhere. Though pretty much the last place one might have expected to find any was sixty metres below ground, in the deep dark recesses where the sun never shone, the rain never fell and nothing grew except mould, mildew and rodent populations.

The single dead leaf was lying on the floor a few steps from where Ben was standing. It was reddish-brown and curled up and brittle-looking. Just one out of countless millions, but the sight of it in such an incongruous setting made him stare. He walked over to it and picked it up, inspecting it between finger and thumb. Odd.

He looked around him and saw where it had come from. A few more steps away, hidden in the shadows away from the glow of the overhead neons, was another door. He could see a dim strip of light shining from the inch-wide gap below it. A couple more leaves were trapped in the gap, brown and curled just like the one he was holding.