Fausters was not hard to find; its neon sign was in the shape of a clenched fist surrounded by a heart. A theatre across the alley beside it was emblazoned with posters for drag acts. ‘This is it,’ said Cheng.

Eddie looked down the narrow passage. A couple of theatre employees were smoking outside a side entrance. ‘Looks safe, but I’ll go first anyway.’

He led the way. ‘How do we find this guy?’ Nina asked.

‘There’s an apartment block behind the theatre. He’s in number five.’

They rounded a corner, entering a small courtyard. Nina crinkled her nose at the stench from a pile of garbage bags atop an overloaded dumpster. Cheng led them to a doorway beside it.

‘Nice,’ she said. ‘I don’t know how people could live here. Never mind the smell – listen to the noise!’ Thudding basslines from the theatre and bar competed in volume.

‘If you live here, you’re probably working nights,’ said Eddie. ‘Or so desperate for a roof over your head that you don’t care.’

‘Or you’re the kind of person who sells stolen artefacts over the dark web. Let’s see if he’s home.’

Cheng pushed an intercom button. A pause, then a curt ‘Ja?’ came from the speaker.

‘Hello?’ he said. ‘It’s Hui Cheng.’

Someone peered down from a window, then the voice returned. ‘Come in.’ A lock released with a clack.

Eddie opened the door. A motion-activated light flicked on, revealing a cramped and grubby hall. He led them up the narrow staircase to the first landing. ‘Here, number five.’ He rapped on the door.

A man peered warily out before swinging it wider. ‘In, in,’ he said, gesturing impatiently.

They entered an untidy studio overlooking the courtyard, a single bed in one corner. The man, a weather-beaten thirty-something with a scruffy beard, regarded the trio suspiciously before turning to Cheng. ‘You are Hui, yes?’

Cheng nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘The eyes gave it away.’ He looked at Nina. ‘And I can tell from the tits that you are Nina Wilde.’

Eddie glared at him. ‘And you can tell from my fist that you’ll have no teeth if you talk to my wife like that again.’

‘Who are you?’

‘Her husband, obviously.’

Nina thought the man was about to object to Eddie’s presence, but then he turned back to Cheng, eyeing his bag. ‘You have the money?’

‘You have the artefact?’ she countered.

‘Of course. Show me the money, and you can see it.’

Nina exchanged a look with Eddie – neither of them remotely trusted their host – but Cheng unzipped the holdall, revealing bundles of two-hundred-euro notes. The man stared greedily at them, then smiled. ‘Jakob Krämer. Good to meet you.’

‘Likewise, I’m sure,’ Nina replied sarcastically. ‘You’ve seen what you want; now show us what you’ve got.’