‘Agreed. But I get the feeling that I’m missing something. My instinct is generally right on these things.’

‘Then we’ll just have to figure it out,’ he said.

She looked at him. ‘We?’

‘You’re an investigator, aren’t you? With sharp instincts and a strong knowledge of the subject. Sounds good to me.’

The whole time they’d been talking, the busy boulevard the other side of the window was an endless two-way sea of cars and trucks and bikes and bodies and faces of all colours and varieties, constant and monotonous and far less absorbing than the conversation they were deep into. Ben had tuned out completely from what was going on outside, or he might have noticed the three men who crossed the road from the black Mercedes parked down the street, approached the café and paused outside like regular prospective customers checking the place out.

Françoise Schell was looking at him with a half-smile, part amused, part surprised. ‘Are you hiring me?’

‘Maybe we can work together,’ Ben said.

And that was when he glanced sideways out of the café window and saw the three men standing outside. All three of them staring at him. Black hair, dark eyes, olive faces, serious expressions. The one in the middle clean shaven and in his late twenties or thereabouts, the other two a few years older and both heavily bearded. Each of the three was wearing a thin black strap around his neck and shoulder, from each of which dangled a black metallic item that was not a camera. The trio were just standing there in plain sight, making no attempt to hide what they had. Pedestrians were walking by and paying no notice, serenely lost in their thoughts, their phones, their everyday lives.

But that was all about to change.

Ben lunged across the table and grabbed Françoise Schell roughly by the arm, and the two of them tumbled out of their seats as he knocked the table sideways and dragged her to the floor with him, pinning her body under his. The three mobile phones that had been lying on the table between them hit the floor. Cups flew. Coffee splashed. She screamed. A nearby waiter dropped his tray. People turned in sudden shock at the sight of the man attacking the woman at the window table.

And then the café window blew apart in a storm of gunfire from the street.

Chapter 26