Snatching the brown leather bag from James Carter, Rene de Pont pushed him out of the way and headed for the door. He opened it to see Huntly-Smythe leading the charge closely followed by others who, he guessed, were plain clothes policemen.

De Pont slammed the door and dashed over to the bookcase. As he tilted a couple of tomes forward the book case divided to reveal a dusty, dimly lit staircase which he mounted at speed, closely followed by Emile and the screaming Harriet Wells.

Huntly-Smythe burst through the office door with Inspector Cosgrove hot on his heels. James Carter pointed to the exposed hidden staircase. “Inspector, they went up there.”

“Right! You!” Cosgrove barked at Huntly-Smythe. “Where do they lead to?”

Huntly-Smythe hesitated for a moment. “We're on the top floor, so it can only lead to the roof.”

Cosgrove turned to his men who had now joined him. “Right lads, follow me!”

The winter sun had long set, the only light now coming from the full moon. In blind panic, De Pont ran across the roof and peered over the edge, hoping the workmen engaged in building maintenance had left their cradle there overnight. No such luck. He was trapped, his only hope of escape compromised. 

Seconds later, Cosgrove and his men were on the...