Which is why I had walked for so long and for so far. The mantra is to hope for the best and plan for the worst. The plan was to string out any surveillance team so that they would have to double up eventually. I hadn’t seen a thing. Not a single repeat over five miles by my count. So I figured I wasn’t being followed.

Half an hour after arriving at that conclusion, I was sitting in a cafe across the street from Le Foxy Kebab. Folks were drinking small cups of French coffee and eating croissants at the cafe bar. It was a warm and sunny day and the street side of the cafe was open to the sidewalk. Small round cafe tables were spread out. I was sitting three tables back, just inside the restaurant. Consequently, I had a good view of the front of Le Foxy Kebab. I couldn’t be observed from the second or third floors. I sat there for thirty minutes, just watching and waiting. Soaking in the situation until I became part of it.

The morning trade was mostly workmen. A sky blue cleaners van was parked right next to Le Foxy Kebab. The side of the van was a logo in soap bubbles and an aspirational image of a resolute man in blue uniform with a baseball cap, holding a mop. Nothing happened that was in any way remarkable. Twenty minutes later a couple of young men strutted into Le Foxy Kebab. They walked up to the counter and ordered. Then they took seats in a booth. A refrigerated meat truck partially blocked my view.

I paid. I hadn’t noticed any access to the building besides the bathroom door from Le Foxy Kebab. But that didn’t make sense for a mixed-use building with offices above. I did a walk by. There was a door in-between Le Foxy Kebab and the next commercial property over, an outfit selling insurance. The door would lead to a stairwell with direct access to the upper floors. So there were at least two ways of getting upstairs, that and the bathroom entrance from the restaurant.

I kept going. Walked around the block and turned onto the street behind Le Foxy Kebab. It was residential. The row of houses backed onto small fenced gardens. I figured there was the same on the commercial side. A garden backing onto another garden. If that was the case then there would be a back door. There was also the window from the half-landing of the stairwell. I retreated to a small park and found a bench to sit on. The bench faced towards a large fenced-in auto-repair shop’s yard. A couple of mechanics were busy pulling apart engines.

I reflected on the situation.