On his way to the door, Spiro winked at his bodyguard.

‘You got six minutes, Arno. A dream come true, eh? You get to be the guy who took out the great Butler.’ He turned back to Artemis, unable to resist a final jibe.

‘Oh, and by the way — Artemis, isn’t that a girl’s name?’ And he was gone, into the multicultural throngs of tourists on the high street.

The old lady locked the door behind him. The click echoed around the restaurant.

Artemis decided to take the initiative. ‘Now, ladies and gentlemen,’ he said, trying to avoid staring down the black-eyed gun barrels. ‘I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.’

‘Quiet, Artemis!’

It took a moment for Artemis’s brain to process the fact that Butler had ordered him to be silent. Most impertinently in fact.

‘I beg your pardon. .”

Butler clamped a hand over his employer’s mouth.

‘Quiet, Artemis. These people are professionals, not to be bargained with.’

Blunt rotated his skull, cracking the tendons in his neck.

‘You got that right, Butler. We’re here to kill you. As soon as Mister

Spiro got the call we started sending people in. I can’t believe you fell for it, man. You must be getting old.’

Butler couldn’t believe it either. There was a time when he would have staked out any rendezvous site for a week before giving it the thumbs-up. Maybe he was petting old, but there was an excellent chance he wouldn’t be getting any older.

‘OK, Blunt,’ said Butler, stretching out his empty palms before him.

‘You and me. One on one.’

‘Very noble,’ said Blunt. ‘That’s your Asian code of honour, I suppose. Me, I don’t have a code. If you think I’m going to risk you somehow getting out of here, you’re crazy. This is an uncomplicated deal. I shoot you. You die. No face-off, no duel.’