‘Do your thing, Artie.’

Artie dropped to his knees. In a pouch on his belt, buried beneath his woollen coat, was a set of their father’s tools. He splayed open the bag and withdrew a series of narrow metal picks, each with a tiny barb at the end.

‘It’s all in here, is it?’

‘I said it was, didn’t I?’ said Raymond. ‘Just hurry up . . .’

It was the work of a moment to pick the lock. Artie swept up his tools and together the Cohen brothers tumbled through, pulling the door quietly closed behind them.

The office looked small in the dark. Raymond fumbled to light the lamp on Maynard Charles’s desk. Good Lord, the man was idiosyncratic. All of his pencils were arranged in a perfect row. His folders stood to attention on the deep walnut shelves that lined every wall. On the desk was a photograph, framed in silver, of some old army battalion; another image – of some army base or barracks – was scrawled with the signatures of a dozen men.

‘Well?’ said Artie.

Raymond heaved Maynard Charles’s desk aside, revealing the little safe built into the brickwork behind it. Maynard ought to have been more careful; the thing had practically dangled open the last time Raymond marched in here. ‘It’s where he keeps the crown jewels—’

‘What are you talking about, Ray?’

‘When there’s royalty in, and Hélène’s to dance with some prince of the realm or other, he dresses her up in the Buckingham’s finest. This world, Artie, it’s all about appearances. You can’t dance with a nobleman unless you’re dressed like a noble lady. That means diamonds. It means silver and gold. At the masquerade ball this New Year, he’d light Hélène up in it, make her shine like a star. All so that Edgerton’s dogs can ogle her all night. Well, not this year, Mr Charles. Your fascist dogs will have to look elsewhere.’ He paused. ‘You think you can handle it, Artie?’

‘You might be a master in the ballroom, Ray, but I’ve got my own talents too.’

‘Then quick to it. The faster we’re out of here, the better . . .’

‘Why don’t you rough some stuff up, Ray?’ Artie said, pushing past and dropping to the floor to investigate the safe.

‘On what grounds?’

‘It isn’t a robbery if you don’t rough the place up. Stands to reason.’

Raymond shook his head, but couldn’t suppress the grin that spread across his face. ‘And you wonder why you spent so many years locked up, Artie? Have a little class. If they don’t know we’ve been here at all, it’s the highest form of robbery there is. You wouldn’t know a little elegance if it looked you in the face.’