‘How the bloody hell has she managed to get away?’ she said, referring to the assassin on the motorcycle. ‘All those cameras. And the witnesses. It’s ridiculous.’

And it was, of course. But for me the real question was where was the bitch now? And what was she planning to do next?

48

Rosa

It was 2pm when she arrived at her destination – the towering Sky Reach Hotel on London’s Cromwell Road, close to the Natural History Museum.

She was carrying the black briefcase that Roy Slack had left in the garage behind the pub. It contained the component parts of the sniper rifle that could be assembled in thirty seconds.

She’d spotted the hotel while checking out the home of her next target. As soon as she’d realised that the line of fire was perfect she’d gone ahead and booked a room, insisting it be East facing and on or above the fifteenth floor of the twenty-two storey building.

She used a fake credit card to check in and the name on it was Maria Santos.

The receptionist was a young man with ginger hair whose eyes lingered on her face for longer than was necessary, before his gaze dropped to her cleavage.

She was wearing a V-neck T-shirt under a new black raincoat, and a blonde wig that was one of two she carried with her when she travelled.

She’d already located the security cameras on her first visit to the hotel so she was careful not to look at them.

‘You’re in room 712,’ the receptionist said. ‘As requested it’s on the fifteenth floor. I do hope you enjoy your stay, Miss Santos. If there’s anything you need then don’t hesitate to call us.’

All she really needed was some luck. Tonight’s mission could only be carried out if the target arrived back at his house, as was expected. Her window of opportunity would last for only seconds. But that wasn’t so unusual, especially with high-profile targets who were deemed to be at risk and therefore had a personal security detail who ushered them in and out of places.

The room was larger than she’d expected and much smarter than the one she was staying in over in Vauxhall.

She closed and locked the door behind her, placed the briefcase on the bed, and went straight to the window.

It offered a fabulous view of London, and it took her just a few seconds to locate Appleton Mews and the house with the blue door. According to Slack’s source inside Scotland Yard it was where the target lived with his wife and two teenage daughters.

It had a small balcony and an attached garage. There was a street light close to it and she knew that it would work to her advantage if, as expected, she was still waiting here when it got dark in a couple of hours.