The Gilded Seal

‘We should go,’ Tom muttered eventually as he carefully wrapped the painting in a cloth and placed it inside his bag.

‘Where to?’ she said mournfully. ‘The police are in and out of his apartment. I can’t bear it there any more.’

For a moment Tom thought of suggesting that they go to his hotel, but quickly changed his mind. Chances were she would take it the wrong way, and in any case the cops were probably there by now. The best thing would be to get out of Seville as quickly as possible, but there was one more place he needed to go first. According to Gillez, Rafael had been seen going to confession at the Basilica de la Macarena the night he was killed. Assuming that he hadn’t been gripped by a sudden bout of evangelical fervour, Tom wanted to see for himself what had drawn him there. But she interrupted him before he could suggest it, her voice breathless and hurried.

‘There’s something you should know. Something Rafael told me about your father. About how he died. I should have told you before only I was so angry with you that I never –’

The words stuck in Eva’s throat as the glass roof above them suddenly imploded. Tom pulled her to the floor and threw his coat over their heads, the shards embedding themselves into the thick material and crashing around their feet. The next instant he was up, dragging her towards the exit, but heavy footsteps announced someone pounding up the staircase towards them. He turned back, hoping to get to the window, but two other men abseiled into the room, guns drawn, blocking their path. They were trapped.