Sergei was recovering in hospital from his collapse, Katya watched over him, as his wife, but also to ensure he didn’t start speaking Bulgarian.
Somerset was off in Zurich tracking down the cab driver for the attractive North African. He found the cabbie, and played the cuckolded husband, persuaded the driver to tell him where he dropped her off. Outside the Zurich central mosque. Somerset and Malach went there to see what they can find.
Patrick has zoomed and filtered the video from inside the bank, and pinged everyone to say he’d spotted another pressure plate by the vault door, and inside the deposit box he can see from the video, copies of Kim by Rudyard Kipling and a bundle of letters addressed to Eleanor Philby.
“It’s weird though, there’s static on the feed, they might have some electronic counter-measures, but when he opens the flask it gets really bad.”
Katya came back into Sergei’s hospital room. He’d been cleared by the doc and there’s just the bill to settle. As soon as she saw Sergei though it’s clear something’s wrong.
“He’s been through my possessions! Get him!” Sergei shouted.
Katya ducked back out, remembering vaguely a male nurse who’d exited the room as she approached. She spotted a man leaving through a side door. The man is dressed like a tourist, loud shirt, baggy shorts. But, she was sure it was the same guy, which was confirmed when he bolted for the exit, Katya racing behind.
They crashed through hospital doors, leaving gaping staff and patients in their trail. Sergei was not far behind, looking odd in a hospital gown and jeans.
The thief left the hospital over a footbridge to the street, sprinting through the crowd effortlessly. A large guy stepped in front of Katya, then moved to block her again as she tried to go round. Dumb civilian or planned trouble, she didn’t have time to find out. Feinting left, she rolled right, hit the metal tube of the footbridge fence with one extended leg, slid along and hit the ground running before he even had a chance to turn.
“Police! Stop that thief!” She called, and a couple of good citizens tried to grab the loud shirt, but couldn’t hold him.
He was off the bridge now and down through an underpass under the main road. Katya jumped down, and saw he’d somehow changed clothes again, now looking like a rough-sleeper. She pushed herself hard, pulled up on a sign, leapt onto the top of a concrete bollard, and bounced across the gap to the top of the next. She was almost on top of him, when he crossed the road and through the doors of a busy department store.
“Go round the back entrance Sergei, he’s in the Manor store!” she shouted into the tacnet, out of breath.
Inside the store, there’s people everywhere, but no-one running. Katya searched, looking for odd patterns. She spotted a man walking with a woman and children. He was carrying bags, and it could easily be just a family out shopping, but the woman was not making eye contact, there was just a little bit too much distance between them. Katya shouted, and the man runs again. People scattered, someone’s shouts. The chase exited out the back of the store into another wide street. Sergei came bombing round the corner.