‘Fine,’ said William, to everyone’s surprise. But then, he knew exactly where Detective Inspector Hogan would be the following morning at eight o’clock, because he intended to be there as well.

• • •

‘What do you know that I don’t?’ asked Beth, as Christina took a seat on the other side of her desk.

‘Not a lot,’ admitted Christina, ‘except that I’m convinced that wherever the Caravaggio ended up is where you’ll find Miles.’

‘As well as the Frans Hals?’ said Beth.

‘I’m afraid so,’ said Christina, ‘and if I had any idea where that was, I would tell you, believe me.’

Beth didn’t believe her, so she took William’s advice and continued to listen, listen, listen.

‘All I know for certain is that Booth Watson plans to fly to Barcelona on Monday morning. It can’t be a coincidence that Miles’s yacht will be sailing out of Monte Carlo on Saturday night. I wouldn’t be surprised if they both ended up in the same place.’

‘Which can only mean Miles must be on the move again,’ said Beth.

‘Agreed,’ said Christina. ‘And if his yacht’s involved, the collection will also be on the move.’

‘Where are you getting your information from?’ asked Beth.

‘Ex-Superintendent Lamont, who’s only too happy to have more than one paymaster.’

‘Let’s hope Miles never finds out,’ said Beth, ‘because he doesn’t believe in golden parachutes, unless he has control of the release cord.’

‘So now you know as much as I do,’ said Christina, as she got up to leave.

Beth doubted that, but still intended to call William the moment she’d left. She could already hear her husband’s response when she passed on the information Christina had just revealed.

‘I’m still not sure whose side that woman’s on.’

• • •

Nosey Parker was the name displayed above the door of 114A Charing Cross Road. An establishment that rarely served more than one or two customers a day, and then only by appointment with the proprietor. Ross marched into the shop five minutes early and nervously approached the counter.

‘At ease, corporal,’ said a voice he could never forget. He hadn’t been addressed that way for almost ten years, but he still couldn’t relax in the presence of his old boss.

‘I was sad to hear of your wife’s death,’ said Colonel Parker in a far gentler tone than Ross had ever heard during his four years with the SAS. ‘But for now, corporal, we must consider the future,’ he said, the voice of authority returning.

‘Were your boffins able to install the modification I requested for my video camera?’

‘A relatively simple task,’ replied the colonel, producing an unmarked box from under the counter. ‘This will allow you to detect any alarms or booby traps while still videoing the whole operation in real time.’

Ross was going to enquire about the locked door with no lock, when the colonel said, ‘How did my 1950s Silver Cross pram work out?’

‘Couldn’t have been better, sir. I walked straight past the target area without anyone giving me a second glance. I carried out the operation as planned, and escaped unnoticed by either gang or the police.’