De Payns attempted a smile. ‘I think your brother’s arrived,’ he said, a voice in the back of his head asking, What the fuck am I doing here?

Raven joined him at the window and rolled her eyes. ‘He’s such a drama queen.’

They returned to the living room and de Payns peered over the windowsill. On the street, there was another black LandCruiser and the black S-Class Mercedes that he’d got to know pretty well. Men who looked similar to the ones out the back walked routes up and down the street, talking into their lapels.

The buzzer sounded in the flat and it gave de Payns a start.

‘Ha ha, it got you too!’ said Raven, pressing on the door release. ‘That ringer is heart-attack material.’

A few seconds later there was a knock at the door and Raven opened it. The doorway was filled with a male shape that instantly reminded de Payns of Templar—large but athletic; trained and dangerous. The heavy walked into the room, leaving a small figure standing just outside the doorway—Dr Death, codename Timberwolf.

The scientist was as small-featured and bespectacled as any stereotypical professor. He wore a brown sports coat, khaki slacks and a mustard-coloured cardigan under the jacket, confirming that scientists had the same sartorial elegance wherever they lived. The first bodyguard walked past de Payns and did a check of the flat while Timberwolf stood beside a second bodyguard. The bodyguard at the door stared at de Payns while the first guy made a commotion opening wardrobes and pulling back the shower curtain.

‘We just have to wait,’ Raven said to him apologetically. ‘Sorry, I forgot to tell you.’

‘At least I didn’t bring that whisky,’ said de Payns, aiming for a joke. He smiled at Timberwolf, but the scientist showed no sign of having heard. The minder at the door simply glared.

The fire stairs banged and clattered, as one of the people from the car park checked the back exits, and they could hear the first bodyguard talking loudly somewhere in the flat, meaning he was probably communicating with the guy on the fire stairs. De Payns couldn’t pick it, but it would be something like clear or, Check out this French pansy—let’s put a hood on him right now.

When the minder came back from searching the flat, he motioned for Timberwolf to enter and touched de Payns on the arm, asking him to follow. They stood in the spare room—with one single bed and some storage boxes—and the minder searched him thoroughly, looking for weapons and electronic devices. He found the Nokia and, having looked at it, asked de Payns in halting French, ‘You need this for to eat the meal?’

De Payns shook his head, and the minder broke down the phone very expertly and handed de Payns the pieces.