"Listen, doll," said Chongo. "You don't know the half of it. This guy Vlad is dangerous. More dangerous than you can guess. He almost killed a girl the other day and he almost killed me when I stepped in to save her. He is pure poison. If you have any idea where he and Magenta could be now, I gotta know. It's a matter of life and death. Her life and death."

JennyO turned a shade paler. She knew Chongo meant what he said.

"I think they went to the Stafford Hotel," she said. "What should we do?"

"Not 'we', sister." Chongo shook his head. "You stay clear of it. Me and 'Tommy' will take care of Mr Vlad. Where is this Stafford Hotel? I'm new in town."

JennyO hurriedly gave Chongo the directions. He thanked her and headed out the door at a fast walk. He could see a big fuss still going on over at the pub he had so recently vacated. It appeared that the police had decided to arrest Mabel, probably for firing a gun in a public place. She was swearing and carrying on. Chongo ducked into a handy alleyway, climbed up the wall and headed across the rooftops, straight for the Stafford, with the violin case slung securely over his back, the oiled Thompson submachine gun nestling inside it. London was like any other city. You could make better time across the roofs than you could in the streets, and it was a lot less crowded too.