The owner knelt down and fiddled with the dial on the safe until a click was heard and the locking mechanism snapped open.

The owner pulled the door open with caution and peered into the safe.

There was no movement. To confirm the position, the owner reached in and felt the body inside, finding it cold and lifeless.

The owner closed the safe door; the corpse would be disposed of later.

Curious, though, that despite having a smaller lung capacity, the Alsatian had lasted no longer than a human should.

The owner resolved to revisit the calculations.

Chapter 35

Chapter 35

The dawn sun was partially covered by mottled clouds through which brilliant shafts of light burst over the high-rises lining Chancery Lane. Priest meandered through the sea of commuters and round the occasional early-morning tourist before turning off to a quieter street that connected to the Nook. The cafes and coffee shops were full, serving fried breakfast and orange juice. Despite the cold, a few business types were sitting outside smoking roll-ups and planning the day ahead. One of them threw Priest a cheery wave, although he didn’t recognise him. Overhead, a police helicopter banked sharply. The cafe patrons had to raise their voices to be heard over the chunter of the rotors but otherwise the intervention was ignored.

He bounded up the Priest & Co. office steps and crashed through the front door expecting to find the reception deserted. Instead he was met with an unimpressed scowl from behind the front desk.

‘Remind me,’ said Maureen drily. ‘The name escapes me.’

‘Charlie Priest, your beloved employer, at your service.’ Priest bowed in an exaggerated way.

‘That’s funny, for one minute I thought you said Priest, the guy who owns this place, but it can’t be.’

‘You’re in early, Maureen.’

‘Someone has to keep this place going while you’re off gallivanting around the city looking for trouble. I hear your star witness is dead. Case going well?’

Priest headed towards the stairs. ‘Cup of tea would really go down very well, Maureen.’

She inhaled sharply, replaced her headphones and resumed typing. ‘Kitchen’s next to your office, Charlie.’

‘You’re most kind.’

She smirked then, apparently just recalling something, fumbled around under the desk. She produced an envelope. ‘This was hand delivered for you,’ she said, handing it over.

‘By whom?’ He inspected the envelope, marked with his name and postal address, preceded with the words STRICTLY PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL – ADDRESSEE ONLY.

Maureen shrugged and resumed typing. ‘A courier. Didn’t catch his name, I’m afraid.’

*

Priest was soon joined in his office by Okoro and Georgie, the former wearing a cream Ralph Lauren sports coat with a navy handkerchief protruding from the breast pocket; the latter wearing a cardigan that looked as though it had been rejected from a jumble sale.