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Yashim pulled the door closed behind him, releasing the handle gently so as to make no sound.

He was just in time: even as he put his ear to the door he could hear the other door being flung open. Someone marched into the room, and then stopped.

In five seconds they’ll be through this door, too, Yashim thought. He looked round, hoping to find a hiding place.

And realised immediately that the Russian ambassador’s gorgeous young wife, wearing a shimmering sable cape, was sitting at a mirror, gazing at him open-mouthed.

And apart from the fur, she was naked.

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