She shook her head. ‘Thanks, boss, but I’ll take one in the pump for later. I want to get this on the fax to Köln right away.’

Hartmut Karpf in Köln hadn’t wasted any time. Within fifteen minutes of her sending the fax, he’d called her back. ‘This is really interesting material,’ he’d said enthusiastically. ‘Look, I want to move on this fast. But it’s going to take a lot of manpower to do it properly. Is there any chance that you can come to Köln tomorrow? It would help me to convince my boss that it’s worth doing if you were here to make the case in person.’

‘I need to clear it with my commander, but I don’t think he’ll have any objection. Let me get back to you on that, OK?’

Half an hour later, she had made the arrangements. She needed to be in Köln by noon the following day. Which offered some interesting possibilities. Marijke checked her watch. Before she made any decisions, she had to check out flights.

It was turning into a very good day indeed. If only Tony would call, then it could get close to perfect.

The lane that ran past Matic’s farm was as black as an underground cavern. High hedges cut out any light from the farmhouse, and cloud obscured the thin sliver of the crescent moon. It was hard to believe they were only a couple of miles from the edge of town, so still and dark was the spring evening. Petra peered at a green and black world through night-vision goggles, courtesy of the Special Ops commander. She felt as if she were underwater, men swimming in and out of her field of sight like strange aquatic creatures, their faces obscured with goggles and masks to protect against the smoke and tear gas they’d be using when they stormed the place.

The laconic tough guys who had been strutting their stuff all afternoon, crowding out her office, lolling in chairs and sprawling on the floor, had been transformed as night had fallen. They’d become a disciplined team, economic of movement and stealthy as shades. As soon as it had grown dark, a couple of them had flitted across the yard, silently planting microphones in the walls of the farmhouse and diverting the phone line via their own communications system. No incoming calls would be able to get through, and if Matic or his wife tried to make a call, all they would hear would be an unanswered ringing tone.