And here he was, bringing the risk of death back to Vivienne Edgerton’s door.

His heart was beating wildly as he crossed the Buckingham and made his way to her suite. He hadn’t been there to see what had become of Vivienne that night – but nothing escaped Billy Brogan. As he reached up to knock on the door, he couldn’t help but wonder at what he was going to find inside.

All he found was Vivienne, wearing an ivory gown, pearls around her neck. She had called out for Billy to enter and now he stood there, nervously, at the end of the bed.

‘Mr Simenon saw sense then, did he?’

Billy didn’t know what kind of sense it was. All he knew was the way Mr Simenon had seethed as he delivered Billy his instructions; all he could remember was the warmth of the spittle that had showered down on him as Billy began to protest. ‘You’re not here to question me, Brogan. You’re in the thick of this, just the same as I am. If little Miss Edgerton rats on me, who else do you think’s in the firing line? So go get her the powders, boy – and I’ll throttle you if you breathe so much as a word . . .’

Billy reached into his back trouser pocket and produced the little lavender pouch.

‘I’ll take my leave, if I might, miss.’

Vivienne wheeled around, positioning herself between Billy and the door. ‘You may certainly not,’ she returned, pinning Billy in place. For some reason, the hotel page was refusing to look in her eyes – perhaps, she thought, for fear of what he might find there. ‘Billy, look at me, won’t you?’

Against his will, Billy lifted his eyes.

‘What is it, miss?’

‘You’ve been a good friend. I don’t forget my friends. Here,’ she said, and unstrung the pearls from around her neck, ‘take these, won’t you?’

Whether he wanted them or not, they fell into Billy Brogan’s cupped hand.

‘I’ve a favour to ask of you, Billy.’

Billy was uncertain. ‘I did everything Mr Simenon asked.’

‘Oh, that,’ she said. ‘Not that. No, my favour’s more particular – and less troublesome, you might say. I don’t want you to procure me anything, Billy. Anything but . . . information.’

Information was a hotel page’s stock in trade, but there was something about the way Vivienne spoke that still gave Billy Brogan pause. He could see her hands shaking as she spoke.

‘You see and hear everything in this hotel, don’t you, Billy? And you want to stay here, don’t you?’