‘I’m going inside now,’ said Anton. ‘If I can’t find you afterwards, we’ll meet in that bar on the quai.’

‘All right,’ said Maxwell. ‘At least Paris has stopped thinking about sex for a moment.’

The lawyers’ summings-up came to an end and the jury retired at eight in the evening. They were back within the hour. They found that Henriette Caillaux had not been clear-headed or self-reliant enough to be responsible for the murder of Gaston Calmette. At the foreman’s second enunciation of the word ‘Non’, the defendant fell into the arms of her lawyer, though during this collapse she remained conscious. The room broke up into furious shouting, ‘Vive Caillaux’ and ‘Ass-ass-in!’ The judge pronounced the defendant free to go, his voice straining to be heard, then shrugged and left his court through a door in the panelling behind his seat.

Anton ran outside, where in the melee he was able to push his way over to Maxwell.

‘Half of these people are here to make trouble,’ puffed Maxwell. ‘They’re mercenaries. You know what we should do? We should go with Caillaux and see if we can have a word with him. He’ll be feeling pretty pleased.’

‘How do you know where he lives?’

‘He’s going to his best friend’s house. Thompson told me. Come with me, Heideck. The champagne’ll be flowing. Let’s see if we can bluff our way in.’

They ran over the bridge and found a cab near the little garden of the Tour Saint Jacques. Ten minutes later they were at an hôtel particulier in a quiet street; but they were not the first. Scores of hostile people had gathered on the pavement and were chanting outside the house.

‘So much for the Reuters plan,’ said Maxwell.

When a cab delivered Joseph and Henriette Caillaux, they had to be all but carried up the steps by police wielding batons to keep the mob at arm’s length. Eventually the guards managed to secure a passage for friends and supporters to make their way up to the first floor, where the lights glowed in triumph.

As the protesters grew more numerous, however, the flow of guests began to dry up.

‘Word’s got out,’ said Maxwell. ‘I think they’ll make a run for it. It’s not safe for them here. Let’s go round the back.’

The rear of the house gave onto a cobbled mews where a row of cabs was waiting and some horses were being fed from iron mangers on the walls. There was also a motor car with a rear section enclosed by a metal roof, alongside which stood a chauffeur in uniform.

They waited for half an hour in a doorway.

‘Maybe it’s all dying down,’ said Anton, looking at his watch.

‘Let’s give it another few minutes. They won’t get far in that contraption anyway.’

‘I’ve got a train from the Gare de l’Est,’ said Anton. ‘To Vienna.’

‘Where are your bags?’

‘At the left luggage office.’

‘Wait. There’s someone coming out.’