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let’s not mess around … you are lying, or at least there are things you are not telling me.”
    Brun became animated. “Like what? How many times do I have to say that I left the laboratory at 8 p.m. and headed straight home, the last time I saw him Ernesto was sat in our office as I said goodbye, sat at his desk, normal, working … living.” After a long pause he sat back in his seat; his cigar ash dropped onto the carpet.
    Delvechi observed the crescendo of the dialogue with curiosity.
    Beltrano spoke softly, “I don’t doubt that part, Professor, but there is no way a man who works as closely as you did with Professor Vittorio didn’t notice anything strange or out of the ordinary leading up to his disappearance. You are holding out on me.”
    Brun stared straight into Beltrano’s dark eyes, they were cold. He went to say something but stopped himself,. “Goodnight, Officer Beltrano.” He stubbed out the cigar on the desk, wiped off the ash and dumped the stub into the empty mug.
    Delvechi was waiting for Beltrano to stop Brun leaving, but to his surprise he didn’t. He just turned to the window and let out a cloud of cigar smoke, pitching his head back and facing the ceiling.
    “Officer Delvechi … we are going to a party.”

10.
    Label on the leather chair, label off the brass candlestick and table lamp, label on the gold picture frame, label on the small lamp table. Luke had taken a different route back to his hotel, keeping a sharp eye on any followers. He was now stood outside in the shadows observing the hotel entrance, marking and un-marking his memory room. It had been a busy hour, almost all of the guests at the boutique hotel and had come and gone, some even coming and going more than once, but no new faces had appeared and Luke was satisfied he was uncompromised.
    He shook the cold out of his bones and walked briskly northwards away from the hotel. Turning the corner, he was confronted with a poorly lit street, large hedgerows ran down each side. He gave a quick check around but it was quiet and most of the houses were dark; he continued down the street and came to what he was looking for. Halfway down was a gap in the houses, in that gap was a small brick structure; it was falling to pieces but Luke had seen it on an initial recce of the area and assumed it had once housed cars or vehicles of some sort. It had since fallen into disrepair and was now nothing more than a brick shell.
    Luke slipped inside and sat himself down on the cold floor. He rummaged around in his coat pocket and produced his mobile phone, slipping a sock over it to dim its light. He wasn’t taking any chances. He tapped in a number from memory … a female voice answered;
    “Hello, Nissell & Randall?”
    “Oh hi there, yes, I wonder if you could help me. I currently have money invested with your offshore department.”
    “Which division please?”
    “Italy.”
    “Please hold.”
    There was the familiar click followed by a high-pitched singular beep. Davison’s voice came on clear and crisp. “We have a new strategy for your investment. In two evenings’ time we feel it would be best for you to start looking to the stars a bit more, charity is something that you will need to look at. We don’t have all the answers but we have the ticket on this one. That is about all we have for you, good evening Mr Reid.”
    Luke signed off with pleasantries of his own to keep up the pretence, although no doubt Davison was no longer listening. He turned the phone off immediately, removing the battery, and remained crouched against the crumbled brick. The street was silent; the cold was seeping through his jeans.
    Davison’s cryptic message was running through his mind. Looking to the stars , being so close to a ground-breaking physics laboratory meant it was specific wording, two evenings’ time is what Davison had said, plus we have the ticket on this one meant it was some form of ticketed event, a party of some sort, and