I crushed the warm ash with my finger tip, so that none of it was readable if someone tried. When it was nothing but powder, I hurried downstairs to Papa’s bureau in the dining room that we rarely used, preferring to eat in the sprawling kitchen most days. The bureau was locked. It was a heavy mahogany piece with fancy brass handles and a brass lock that looked more forbidding than it was. It took me all of two minutes to make it oblige and no more than another minute to remove a brown envelope from the pile inside and lock it once more. By the time I entered my room again I’d been gone five minutes maximum.

I shot the bolt. Yes, I’d screwed on a bolt. Two in fact, top and bottom. They wouldn’t keep out an axe murderer but they might gain me vital minutes to escape. In this case, they gained me the privacy I required.

I ripped open the sealed envelope André had given me and removed its contents. Two items tipped on to my bed. The developed film in a clear protective film wallet was one, a half-sheet of paper folded over tight was the other. Without a qualm I unfolded the paper to read its contents and felt a rush of exhilaration when I saw what was printed there in André’s black ink. The thrill of the chase sent a bolt of excitement scrambling up my spine. It was like old times. Except I had far more to lose now.

It was a code.

I smiled as I ran my finger along the columns of numbers. My old friends. The days when you can outwit me at this, André, are long gone. I dived under my bed, drew out my smart Parisian suitcase, unlocked it and removed from under a copy of Paris Match my battered old copy of Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables. I flipped through the book, tracking down each page number, followed by the line number, followed by the word number. The first one was page 359, line 20, 10th word along. This turned out to be ‘fields’. I wrote down its first letter in my notebook – F.

A simple code, if you possess the book that is the key to it. I possessed it, of course I did. With one ear cocked for any sound of André’s crutches, I continued along every row of numbers until I had tracked down each of the first letters of the words and I ended up with thirty-five letters. When laid out in order they made up seven words:

FOUND IN DUR ANDS OFFICE NEED

HIGHER PRICE

*

I read it through twice and twice more, my brain latching tight as a leech on to the last three words. ‘Need Higher Price’.

For whom?

For Durand?

For the source of the leak?

I made myself think the impossible, just as my brother had told me.