When Tadeusz had told her his was a small office, he hadn’t been joking, Carol thought. There was barely enough room for the table and four chairs in the room above the amusement arcade. However, in spite of the scruffy stairway that led upstairs, the office itself was as plush as she would have expected. It reeked of stale cigar smoke, but the furnishings were expensive leather executive desk chairs and the table was a solid piece of limed oak. A bottle of marc de champagne and one of Jack Daniels sat on a small side table beside four crystal tumblers, and the ashtrays were four pieces of hand-crafted glass. The walls and ceiling were lined with sound-absorbing tiles so that none of the electronic cacophony from below penetrated this quiet sanctum.

‘Very choice,’ Carol said, spinning one of the chairs on its swivel. ‘I see you like to impress those you do business with.’

Tadeusz shrugged. ‘Why be uncomfortable?’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Make yourself at home. Darko will be here any time now. Would you like a drink?’

She shook her head. ‘A bit early in the day for me to hit the brandy.’ She settled down in the chair facing the door.

Tadeusz raised his eyebrows. ‘The bodyguard’s seat, huh?’

‘What?’

‘Bodyguards always sit where they can see the door.’

Carol laughed. ‘And women over thirty always sit with their backs to the window, Tadzio.’

‘Not something you have to worry about, Caroline.’

Before she could respond to the compliment, the door opened. Fuck me, it’s a Centurion tank with legs, Carol thought.

Krasic stood on the threshold, shoulders almost as broad as the doorway itself. His eyes were shadowed under frowning brows as he took in the scene. Turn on the charm, Carol, she told herself, jumping to her feet. She crossed the short distance between them, hand extended, smile masking the deep unease this man’s physical presence provoked in her. ‘You must be Darko,’ she said cheerfully. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

He took her hand in a surprisingly gentle grip. ‘Mine is pleasure,’ he said in heavily accented English, his brooding stare giving the lie to his words. He looked over her shoulder and said something in rapid German.

Tadeusz snorted with laughter. ‘He says you’re every bit as beautiful as I said. Darko, you are such a smooth-talking bastard with the ladies. Come on, sit down, have a drink.’

Krasic pulled out a chair for Carol, poured himself a Jack Daniels and sat down opposite her, his eyes fixed on her face. ‘So, you are to answer our English problem?’ he said, his voice a challenge.

‘I think we can be of mutual assistance, yes.’