Another silence, then: ‘They needed cash. I provided it.’

Angel looked at Louis, who shook his head. They had both heard the lie, but Louis made a sign indicating that Angel should let it pass.

‘When will you meet him again?’ said Angel.

‘When the time comes to hand over the passports.’

‘What passports?’

‘The Vuksans have been ordered to leave Europe.’

‘Who by?’

‘Belgrade. I’ve been tasked with securing passports, under new identities.’

‘How?’

‘I have a source.’

‘What’s the name of this source?’

Frend hesitated before surrendering Hannah Kauffmann.

‘Does she know who the passports are for?’

‘Yes.’

‘When will you receive them?’

‘Within twenty-four hours, I believe.’

‘How many?’

‘Three: the Vuksans and Ilić.’

‘Not the girl?’

‘She does not wish to go with them.’

‘And how does Spiridon feel about this?’

‘I would assume he is unhappy, but what can he do?’

Beside Angel, Louis made a single slicing gesture: Cut the call.

‘Keep this phone close,’ Angel told Frend. ‘We’ll be in touch again soon.’

‘Wait! I want to speak with my daughter.’

‘You will, as soon as the Vuksans are dead.’

‘But how do I know she’s alive?’ said Frend. ‘How can I be sure that you haven’t harmed her already?’

‘Because we don’t lie,’ said Angel. ‘We’re not lawyers.’

Which was the point at which Angel had ended the conversation, leaving Louis looking impressed.

‘Man, you’re hard-core,’ said Louis. ‘I feel like I should hand over my wallet and watch before you hurt me.’

‘I didn’t enjoy that,’ said Angel. ‘It gave me no pleasure to threaten a man with the murder of his daughter, even if we have no intention of doing it.’

‘That’s what separates us from them,’ said Louis. ‘Or maybe you from them. I’m still reluctant to commit to a side.’

‘You’re committed. It just pains you to concede it.’ But Angel was more uncertain of this than he sounded. He loved Louis, yet one could love a man and still be frightened by his capabilities. ‘Me, I’m more in touch with my feelings, and my feelings tell me that holding a blade, metaphorical or otherwise, to a woman’s throat is bad.’

‘Do you think Anton Frend ever had to look at blood?’ said Louis.

‘Only if he cut himself shaving.’

‘There you go. He knew how the Vuksans operated, but he kept it in the abstract. That’s what men like him do. They can’t function otherwise. You’ve just given him a long-delayed lesson in outcomes.’

Angel let it go.

‘What next?’ he said.

‘We have the email address,’ said Louis, ‘but I don’t trust Frend’s claim that using it involves just simple messages. I wouldn’t institute that kind of email contact without a protocol, and I don’t believe the Vuksans would either. There’s a tripwire.’