The buzz of the video entryphone interrupted him and he closed the album, getting to his feet and crossing the hall to the small screen sunk discreetly into the wall by the apartment door. Darko Krasic stood outside, half-turned towards the avenue, his eyes shifting back and forth in a constant surveillance. Even here in the respectable streets of Charlottenburg, his lieutenant didn’t take his safety for granted. Krasic always quoted his father, a fisherman. ‘One hand for the boat, one hand for yourself.’ Tadeusz didn’t mind what some might have seen as paranoia; as far as he was concerned, it was directed towards keeping him safe as much as Krasic, and therefore a bonus rather than a cause for concern.

He buzzed Krasic in at the ground floor, putting the apartment door on the latch and heading through to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. He’d barely taken the beans from the freezer when Krasic strode in, head down and shoulders wide, a man looking for somewhere to put his belligerence. He knew better than to direct it at his boss, however. ‘We’ve got trouble,’ he said in a surprisingly calm voice.

Tadeusz nodded. ‘I heard the radio news earlier. Another two dead junkies in some shitty nightclub in Oranienstrasse.’

‘That makes seven, counting the one who died in intensive care.’ Krasic unbuttoned his overcoat and took a cigar case from his inside pocket.

‘I know.’ He dumped the beans in the grinder and killed all prospect of conversation for a few seconds. ‘I can count, Darko.’

‘So can the media. They’re kicking up a real stink, Tadzio. This isn’t going to go away. The cops are under a lot of pressure.’

‘That’s what we’re paying them for, isn’t it? To take the pressure and leave our people alone?’ He tipped the ground coffee into a cafetiere and poured the hot water over it.

‘Some things they can’t ignore. Seven dead, for example.’

Tadeusz frowned. ‘What are you saying, Darko?’

‘It’s gone past the point where our normal protection can take care of things. They’re going to arrest Kamal tonight. We’ve had our card marked, that’s as far as our man can stick his neck out right now.’ He lit his cigar and puffed luxuriously.

‘Fuck. Can we control what happens?’

Krasic shrugged. ‘It depends. If he’s looking at seven murder charges, Kamal might think it’s worth taking the risk of giving me up. Or even you. If they offer him immunity, he might decide his best chance is to take us off the streets. Give himself a breathing space and trust to the witness protection programme.’

Tadeusz pressed the plunger down slowly, his mind flipping through the options. ‘We’re not going to let it go that far,’ he said. ‘Time for the pawn sacrifice, Darko.’