“I take it the camera feed isn’t reviewed in real time?”

“Unfortunately not, otherwise it would have elicited an energetic response from the Metropolitan Police, I can assure you. They also must have been aware of that.”

“I probably shouldn’t even bother asking this.”

“License plate and vehicle are dead ends. Van was stolen from a junkyard in Surrey about a week ago, the plates off a wreck at a repair garage here in London. The back door to this building was kicked in, so evidently an assault team came through there as well.”

“I think you hit it on the head, an assault team. Front, back, hit each floor grid by grid. They probably had a list of everyone who worked here and the physical layout of the place.” Shaw said this more to himself than to Royce. “Okay, run the rest of the feed.”

Shaw stiffened once more when the shattered window glass poured down on the street. He saw a head emerge and the person started screaming. He couldn’t hear her, because there was no audio. But he didn’t need to hear.

“That’s Anna!”

“I thought it might be,” Royce said.

Shaw stared hard at him. “How much did Frank tell you about her and me?”

“Not all that much, but enough. And I’ve been in Ms. Fischer’s office. I saw the photos of you and her. I’m sorry. Had you been together long?”

“Not long enough.”

“Again, I’m sorry. I can only imagine what you’re feeling.”

“Don’t even try to imagine it,” Shaw said back.

Royce cleared his throat and turned to the screen. “The windows were accidentally painted shut and she had to break the glass.”

“Accidentally? You’re sure?”

“We checked out the painting company. They’re legit, been doing buildings around here for decades. All hands accounted for and all. It’s not such an unusual thing apparently, shoddy work I mean. I had my flat done three years ago and I still can’t open the damn windows.”

Shaw wasn’t listening. He was watching the image of Anna as she called out the window, obviously for help, help that would never arrive. Then a moment later he saw her climb up onto the windowsill.

“Was she going to jump?” he said sharply.

“To that awning below, we’re guessing.”

“But she never made it,” Shaw said dully. “Why?”

“I have to warn you that the next few frames are… Well, they’re not easy to watch.” Royce turned to look at him. “Are you sure you want to keep going?”

“I need to see it.”

The next scenes were played out quickly. Anna was on the sill of the window, in her stocking feet, grasping both sides of the window with her hands.

Mentally, Shaw was telling her to jump, jump, before it was too late, even though he knew it already was. It was an agonizing moment for him; he couldn’t even imagine how terrifying it had been for her. The next frame, however, sent his agony to an entirely new level.

He saw the first bullet pass through her chest and a wash of blood and tissue was propelled from her body. A split second later another chunk of Anna was blown out into the fresh London air. As she toppled back inside her office, Shaw finally looked away.

“We can finish this later,” Royce suggested.

“Keep rolling, I’m okay.”

Several minutes later the men emerged from the front door. Seconds after that the van was gone.

“And no one heard or saw anything?” Shaw asked. “Even a woman screaming out the window? Shots fired, her blood hitting the street?”

“The buildings on either side of this one are scheduled to be renovated so they were empty. The buildings opposite are occupied but the tenants were notified that the city was doing some hazardous gas work in the area that day and they were to leave their premises before noon or risk a hefty fine.”

“And no one bothered to call and check whether that was true?”

“There was a phone number on the notice. Several tenants did call and received confirmation that it was true.”

“Only the number was phony.”

“Correct. And the cones blocked off the normal automobile flow and foot traffic. And it’s a dead-end street. There’re never many vehicles down here anyway.”

“Leaving The Phoenix Group all alone. It was well planned out,” Shaw grudgingly admitted. “I’d like to see Anna’s office now.”

“Well, first I’d like to introduce you to an owner of The Phoenix Group.”

“They’re here?” Shaw said sharply.

“One of them flew in as soon as he was notified.”

“Where from?”

“What do you know about the phoenix symbol?”

“Bird that never dies. Rises from the ashes. Egyptian origin.”

“Your description is accurate, as far as it goes. The phoenix is actually a symbol that has various origins. Egyptian as you said. It’s also Arabian, Japanese, and at least one other.”

“Which is?” Shaw said impatiently.

A small man appeared in the doorway. He was dressed in a black suit and his expression matched the color of his clothing. Royce rose to greet him.

“Shaw, let me introduce you to Mr. Feng Hai. Of China.”

WHILE SHAW WAS INSIDE THE BUILDING Katie had been busy outside. She’d actually gotten there before him and had hidden around a corner when she saw him arrive by cab. She’d flashed her no-longer-valid press badge at the officer on duty outside the entrance and fired off a series of questions to which the man in blue offered not a single answer.

“Move along,” he said, his beefy face showing considerable irritation.

“Not into a free and independent press, Constable?” she asked.

“What I’m into is you blokes letting us do our bloody jobs without you poking your noses into places it don’t belong.”

“Your name will never appear. You’ll be an unnamed source.”

“You’re bloody right my name won’t appear. Now move along!”

Katie walked slowly down the street a bit, staring up at the windows of the building as she did so. Shaw was in there getting the whole story while she was out here with zip.

If I could just… Back on top. Another Pulitzer.

She was so intent on her thoughts that she nearly jumped when something touched her arm. She whirled around and saw him, his soft felt cap in hand, his wide, nervous eyes squarely on her.

“Can I help you?” she asked suspiciously.

“You are a journalist, yes?” His voice was squeaky and not exactly brimming with confidence. She easily guessed that English was not his first language. He was short and painfully thin. His teeth were crooked and yellowed. His clothes barely rose to the level of threadbare.

“Who wants to know?” She peered over his shoulder as though expecting to see someone else there.

He looked back at The Phoenix Group building. “I have come here every day to see it. This place, I mean.” He gave an involuntary shudder.

“It is disturbing,” she said, still wary of the man.

He seemed to sense her discomfort. “My name is Aron Lesnik. I am from Krakow. That is in Poland,” he added.

“I know where Krakow is,” Katie said. “I’ve been there. What do you want with me?”

“I saw you talking to that police officer. I heard you say you are journalist. Is that true? Are you journalist?”

“Yes. So?”

Lesnik glanced once more at the building. When he turned back to her, his eyes were filled with tears. “I am so sorry for those people. They were good people and now they are dead.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve and looked at her pitifully.

“It was a real tragedy. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Katie wondered why she always seemed to attract the nutcases. The man’s next words made her forget that thought.

“I was in there. On that day.” He said this in a hoarse voice.

“What?” Katie couldn’t have heard the man right. “In where?”

Lesnik pointed to The Phoenix Group building. “In there,” he repeated, an agonizing pitch to his voice now.