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bar.
    â€˜Looks like he’s a drinker,’ Clive said, as Blom downed two whiskies in quick succession.
    After downing a third whisky, Blom glanced at his watch and ordered another, which this time he sipped at for ten minutes, before he looked out of the window onto Place Jourdan and asked for the bill.
    Leaving the bar, he walked out of the revolving door at the front of the hotel and then straight across the road into the car park that centred the small square.
    â€˜He’s going to a car. John, bring the Audi around,’ Terry said over the mic.
    A chauffeur-driven black Maybach was parked in the centre of the square with its engine still running. The chauffeur sat in the driver’s seat looking forward, but darkened glass prohibited a view into the rear of the car. Without hesitating, Blom walked straight to the rear door and pulled it open, exchanging a few words with the passenger before climbing in. The moment that the door was open allowed Sean a brief glimpse of another man in the car, but he couldn’t make out any features.
    Resting his shoulder on the bonnet of another car, Clive was taking photographs rapidly using a long zoom lens, but cursed, noting that he also couldn’t get a decent view of the other passenger.
    After spending less than a minute in the car, Blom squeezed his body back out onto the car park and closed the door behind him. Almost immediately, the Maybach started to pull away, virtually scraping Blom’s side.
    â€˜He’s left the envelope in the car,’ Sean said.
    â€˜Terry, follow the Maybach. We’ll stay with Blom,’ Clive said.
    Terry quickly ran over to the waiting Audi and jumped in. Two seconds later, he was heading in the same direction as the black limousine.
    Hunting for a clue, Sean and Clive followed Blom, as he made his way back to his apartment on Rue Belliard, via three bars, where he downed two whiskies in each.

    *
    The Café Brussels was a large café in the centre of Place Jourdan, with seats outside overlooking the square. Clive ordered drinks for the three gathered people and began the discussion about what they’d seen, some half an hour earlier.
    â€˜They’re still following the Maybach and it seems to be heading towards Germany. Terry sent the plate through. It’s German, but we don’t have any way of checking who owns it. Any ideas?’ He turned to Anna.
    Looking down at the table Sean purposely tried not to make eye contact with Anna, who was now dressed in tight jeans and a woollen jacket.
    â€˜The plate’s from Leipzig, but that’s all I know,’ she replied.
    Sean couldn’t help noticing how her demeanour had changed since the time in her apartment. She had quickly shifted from a steamy temptress to a calculating professional. ‘You said that it was odd that the three party heads met with Blom. Why?’ he queried.
    â€˜Just that they make no secret of their animosity towards each other. They have a very different set of beliefs.’
    â€˜Really? Even on the EU?’ Sean said.
    Anna paused to think briefly. ‘No, you’re right. They’re all staunch federalists, but Ten Harkel is virtually a communist, while Glas is extremely right wing. They have nothing else in common.’
    â€˜Do you know any of them well enough to ask why they met together and with Blom?’ Sean asked.
    â€˜Yes, when I first became an MEP, I was a part of the Democratic Alliance of Europe Party, so I had a number of meetings with Ten Harkel.’
    â€˜Where’s this going, Sean? I’m not sure Anna should be sticking her neck out like that. They’ll know that she was close to Allsop and if they’re involved in some way … ’ Clive said.
    Anna interrupted. ‘It’s okay. I know him well enough to ask and I’m sure he’s not connected to anything to do with Nick’s death. He has some strange political views, but he’s not the type