Emerging at long last from the labyrinthine network of back streets and alleyways that had marked his route, Anton found himself exactly where he wanted to be. The Rue Deauville appeared quiet and deserted, and dimly lit by the second-rate street lamps often utilised on the less frequented streets of Paris, away from the bright lights of the big city where the tourists congregated. Such economies by the municipal authorities might save a few Euros here and there, but they did little for public safety and played right into the hands of a man such as Anton.
A small park lay opposite the Café-Dix, deserted at this time of night. Pausing at the gates just long enough to ensure that the street remained deserted, and that no-one could see him enter the park, he made his way quickly into the wai
