“I’m not the source,” Shaw said calmly. “I haven’t told anyone about anything that’s gone on in here.”

Royce’s features clearly showed he didn’t believe that answer. “Not even your friend, James? Another scoop for her maybe?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Shaw said heatedly.

“Are you denying that you know the lady?”

Shaw hesitated.

“I already know the answer to that question, so don’t lie to me, damn it.”

“How did you know?” Shaw said impassively, even as he glanced curiously at the uniformed police sergeant.

“I’m a bloody intelligence agent, that’s what I do.”

“I haven’t seen her lately. And I have no idea where she-” Shaw froze as the tech walked past him and down the stairs.

Frank faced off with Royce. “If you’ve got a problem with leaks, Royce, why don’t you discuss it with your people?” he said. “Because there is no way in hell that Shaw is the source for that story.”

“I can’t believe any of my lads would have anything to do with it,” Royce said indignantly.

While Frank and Royce were arguing Shaw grabbed the sleeve of the sergeant who’d issued the warning about the bathroom.

In a low voice he asked, “How long has that toilet been broken?”

The sergeant gave a weary smile. “Ever since we got here, sir. Right inconvenient. Locked up it was. Pipe broke, or so’s I could see when I finally got the door open. It’s an old building after all. And not like those poor folks ever had a chance to get it fixed. So I locked it back up. Now the gents got to go to the basement to take a pee ’cause the only other loo is for the ladies on the first floor. Though some of the lads have been using that one too. Guess it don’t matter now, does it?”

“Exactly where is the first floor ladies’ room located?”

“End of the hall, furthest from the stairs, near the rear of the building.”

Shaw walked down the hall and saw the nameplate set into the wood of the door: William Harris. He looked at the room where the copier was. It was equidistant between Harris’s office and the locked bathroom.

Royce came thundering down the hall with Frank scurrying after him. “Shaw?” Royce said. “I want the bloody truth!”

Shaw looked down the stairs, the mental images racing across his brain. Even if Lesnik had misspoken and had used the basement bathroom or even the ladies’ room on the first floor instead of the locked-up one on the second it couldn’t have happened the way he said it had. Katie said he’d told her that he’d heard shots when leaving the bathroom. The assault team was already on the first floor covering both ends by then. Coming back from the basement and especially the first floor he’d have run right into them. He’d be dead. He’d never hid in the copier. He had probably never been in the building.

And it all came down to where you took a leak. Or didn’t take a leak.

He sprinted down the steps, leaving Royce to scream after him, but he never heard the curses raining down on him. He called the number Katie had left him.

“Come on, answer, answer the damn phone.” It rang three, four, five times. Shaw was sure it was going to go to voice mail. Sonofabitch!

“Hello?”

A rush of relief hit him when he heard her real voice. “Lesnik was lying,” he said.

“What?”

“On the day of the killings the toilet on the second floor was busted and the door was locked shut. He’d have to have used the one in the basement or the first floor near the rear entrance. He would’ve run right into the killers. He’d be dead. He was lying about the whole thing. You were set up, Katie.”

There was only silence on the other end. He wondered if she’d hung up on him.

“You’re sure?” she said shakily.

“They briefed him well otherwise. But for the slip about the john, which they obviously forgot to check and assumed it was working, and a bit of luck, I’d never have known.”

“My story. It was a lie?” she gasped in disbelief.

“Where are you?”

“I can’t believe this. I can’t. I told that idiot Gallagher I didn’t have corroboration.”

“Katie, where are you?”

“Why?”

“Because now that you’ve written the story you’re dispensable.”

“I’m safe.”

“No, you’re not safe! They probably know exactly where you are. Now tell me.”

She gave him the address.

“Do not open the door to anybody. And be ready to run.”

He sprinted into the middle of the street, stopping a taxi dead, ripped open the door, hauled the surprised passenger out, jumped in, and told the stunned driver exactly where to go. The diminutive cabbie took one look at Shaw’s massive size and glowering expression and the taxi roared off.

ONLY TWENTY MINUTES HAD PASSED since Shaw’s call when the buzzer on the entrance to Katie’s building went off. She ran to the door of her flat and spoke into the call box.

“Shaw?”

“Yep.”

She hit the button to release the door and then froze. Had that been Shaw’s voice? In her excitement she’d just assumed…

From down below she heard measured footfalls coming up. That didn’t sound like…

She bolted the door, grabbed her hastily packed bag, and looked frantically around for another way out. There was only one. The window overlooking the back alley.

She threw it open and peered out. It was a two-story drop. In the movies there would’ve been a convenient fire escape or mounds of soft garbage down below, but in real life there never were. And she had no time to knot sheets into a rope. What there was on the alley level was a guy, a big guy wearing jeans and a rugby sweater and reading a newspaper in the fading light while sitting in a beat-up lawn chair.

“A hundred quid if you catch me,” she called out.

“Pardon me?” he said, gazing up at her quizzically.

She climbed onto the windowsill, her bag slung over her back. “I’m going to jump and you’re going to catch me. Understood?”

The man dropped his newspaper and stood up looking around, perhaps to see if this was some sort of prank.

“You say you’re going to jump?”

“Do not drop me!”

“Oh, dear Lord,” was all he could manage.

There was someone right outside of Katie’s door now. She heard something pushing against the wood. For an excruciatingly long moment all she saw was Anna Fischer, positioned just as Katie was, and the bullets ripping through her body. If only she’d jumped an instant sooner.

“Here I come,” she called down to the man, who was hopping around, his thick arms flying in all directions, trying to best gauge her trajectory. “Do not miss!” she added firmly.

She leapt and a couple seconds later she and the man tumbled down in a tangle of arms and legs. Katie got to her feet, all body parts seemingly intact, and except for a bruised arm and cut shin she was fine. She shoved five twenty-pound notes into his hand, gave him a kiss, and ran for it.

She turned the corner and headed away from her building. She didn’t look back and didn’t see the man change direction and head her way. She didn’t see the door of her apartment building fly open either as another man hit the street and hustled after her. But she could feel their presence and picked up her pace. Should she start screaming? There were plenty of people around. But what if they had guns? They’d shot poor Lesnik with a million people around. She desperately looked for a cop yet saw none.

She never saw the third man, because he was ahead of her but coming her way. He was the safety valve in case the first team missed, and it looked like he would get his chance. He slid the syringe from the sleeve of his coat, uncapped it, and held it ready as he picked up his pace.