Knox stepped away from the door, and then opened another across from it, revealing a cleaning trolley. He moved it under the spotlight next to Bennett, pressed his back against the wall, and gestured for Bennett to do the same.

‘Be ready as soon as the handle moves,’ Knox whispered. Then he knocked on the door.

Inside the suite, Valera, who had just come back out from her room, instinctively walked towards the sound of knocking.

‘Just a minute,’ Peterson said, getting up from the desk. ‘I’ll take care of this.’

Valera was fully aware that it wasn’t gallantry or manners that prompted Peterson to move past her. It was fear of his new business partner making a run for it, and irritation at being disturbed against his strict instructions.

He looked through the fisheye lens and saw the trolley. He considered ignoring it, but instead turned the handle, ready to give the chambermaid who had disturbed him a piece of his mind. But before he could open his mouth the door was flung open and he was shoved backwards by Knox and Bennett forcing their way inside.

At the sudden appearance of the two people she’d last seen in Stockholm Valera dashed back inside her bedroom. Peterson stumbled over his feet away from Knox and Bennett and, as Valera locked her door behind her, finally lost his balance and toppled over, skidding across the onyx coffee table and falling off the far side of it.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he demanded as he pulled himself back up using the arm of the sofa nearest the desk.

‘Surprised to see me?’ Knox said. ‘You need to hire some better muscle, Nicholas.’

‘I don’t have time to indulge you this morning, Richard,’ Peterson said, falling seamlessly into the role of harassed underling and covering his shock that Knox wasn’t slowly asphyxiating in his flat, as he edged towards the desk and his open briefcase. ‘I’ve got too much to do for Manning.’

‘For Russia, you mean,’ Knox countered, moving closer to Peterson between the sofa and coffee table.

‘You really are an idiot,’ Peterson said. He reached into the briefcase, pulled out the pistol—a Beretta 70—and levelled it at Knox. ‘A complete, bloody idiot.’

The balance of power had suddenly shifted, but Knox didn’t flinch. Even with the gun it was still two against one.

‘Stand down. It’s over,’ he said.

Peterson just laughed at him, letting all his pretences finally drop away.

‘Let Valera go,’ Bennett said, stepping away from Knox, splitting Peterson’s target.

‘She’s here entirely of her own accord,’ Peterson replied.

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘I don’t care,’ he replied. Then he shot her.

Chapter 62

Chapter 62