Schmidt walked hesitantly toward the door and said in a cracked voice, “Who is it?”

“Inspector Steiner!” The words came clearly through the thin paneling, and Schmidt turned toward the two men inside. “What shall I do?”

Chavasse looked inquiringly at Hardt. “Are you armed?”

Hardt shook his head. “No, but Steiner will be.”

Chavasse nodded. “That’s what I was thinking. What a wonderful opportunity for him to get rid of both of us and prove himself a hero at the same time. We wouldn’t stand a chance.”

He walked across to the window, brushing aside the panic-stricken Schmidt, who clutched at his sleeve, and opened it. A little to one side, a thick iron drainpipe dropped forty feet to the cobbles of the yard at the rear of the building. Three feet beyond it, there was an iron fire escape.

As Hardt moved beside him, Steiner hammered on the door and said angrily, “Schmidt, open up.”

Schmidt plucked at Chavasse’s arm. “He’ll kill me.”

Chavasse ignored him and nodded toward the fire escape. “I’d say it’s our best way down.” Without waiting for Hardt to agree, he climbed out onto the windowsill. He reached out for the drainpipe, skinning his knuckles on the rough brickwork as he slid his hands round it. For a moment, he paused, and then he launched himself to one side, his left hand grabbing for the iron railing of the fire escape. A moment later and he was safe on the platform.

Hardt emerged onto the windowsill. He successfully negotiated the drainpipe and jumped for the fire escape. Chavasse reached out and caught him by the arm as his foot slipped. A moment later and Hardt stood safely beside him on the platform.

Schmidt leaned out of the window, a look of terror on his face. “Help me, I implore you. He’s breaking in the door.”

Chavasse was already clattering down the iron steps of the fire escape and Hardt followed him. As they started across the cobbled yard to the alley that gave access to the front of the house, there was a sudden cry from above and they both paused and looked up.