I take another of the peach drinks from a tray and walk slowly around the edge of the room, taking it all in. The women are very beautiful, but most of them are incredibly drunk – draped in pairs over far less attractive men. Then I spot the two girls from earlier, as they glide in unison towards a table in the corner, where one man sits, a bucket in front of him with a bottle of champagne, three glasses on the table next to it. They sit down on either side of him, and then they lean in and kiss his cheeks, as coordinated as synchronised swimmers – and that’s when I realise that the women aren’t ‘guests’, they are employees. ‘Alyssa’ is who the arrogant host has decided I will be for the night.

No.

I turn away from the coordinated whores on my left and make my way across the room towards the secret door. No one has followed Sam up there, and I’m wondering if it’s out of bounds, or maybe there will be some sort of keypad, and I will end up getting caught and thrown out before I can get the one thing that I came here for. I glance around, trying to look casual, but also to make sure that no one is watching me. I recognise someone else. One of the German guys from the hotel in Bangkok. Of course – Sam wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for them. I wonder if they’ve offered him a job, or something. Or maybe this awful host has. Maybe that’s why he’s here. I don’t like to think of Sam mixed up in a place like this.

I worry for a moment that I won’t be able to locate the sensor to open the bookcase, but I needn’t have panicked. As I walk slowly past a line of five red books clumped together, purely for the colour of their spines, rather than their content, a small, green light blinks at the back of the shelf and I reach in, as if to take a book, and there is a small click, and then the door swings open. This time I don’t bother to glance behind me; I just hurry through and hope that no one has noticed me going inside.