By the time Louis returned, Angel had finished packing. They had discussed the possibility of Angel staying in New York, but the conversation ended almost as soon as it had begun. Angel was no longer receiving treatment for his cancer and the latest tests had shown him to be clear. True, he was not as physically strong as he once had been, but any diminution was balanced by a psychological change. Angel had faced physical suffering over and over, and each time he had come through. He did not consider himself to be immortal, or even blessed: he simply had little fear left.

‘What did Ross want?’ said Angel.

‘For us to clean up the Armitage mess. Oh, and to give me his copy of the New York Times.’

‘Did you tell him we have a subscription?’

Louis unfolded the newspaper. Concealed in the Arts & Leisure section was a manila envelope, and inside the envelope was a dossier on an Austrian lawyer named Anton Frend, along with an assortment of photographs of Frend with family, professional colleagues, and, last of all, seated at a dinner table between two men, one of them thin, bald, and vaguely patrician, the other a thug. Louis turned over the photograph. Attached to it was a date – April 9, 2016 – and three names: Radovan Vuksan, Anton Frend, and Spiridon Vuksan. Louis read the salient parts of the file aloud to Angel before passing him the picture of the diners.

‘Dead men,’ said Louis.

‘Even the lawyer?’

‘We’ll see. If he’s keeping that kind of company, his conscience is already reposing. It may be time for the rest of him to follow.’

In addition to the notes on Frend, the envelope contained single pages of data on five other men: Spiridon and Radovan Vuksan themselves; Armitage’s contact, Zivco Ilić; Aleksej Marković; and Luca Bilbija. The material included family backgrounds; known aliases and recent addresses; passport details; prison records; sexual preferences; and, in the case of everyone except Radovan Vuksan, a history of military service. This service included allegations of involvement by Spiridon Vuksan, Zivco Ilić, and Aleksej Marković in mass murder during the Balkan wars. Luca Bilbija, meanwhile, had been too young to fight in the conflicts, although he had done six months of mandatory military service in 2006. A photograph of each man was attached to the relevant page. As Louis read a document, he passed it on to Angel.

‘These aren’t just dangerous people,’ said Angel, ‘they’re dangerous animals.’

‘Smart, though,’ said Louis. ‘Ilić and Marković have spent time behind bars, but not for long, and none of it for any crimes worth mentioning. Bilbija seems clean, and the Vuksans have never seen the inside of any prison, not unless they were visiting someone.’