than the other. Both could be civilians, and either could be a shadow.
Which, Victor realised, was the point.
Both were part of the crew. Each was a shadow. The team was maintaining its cautious approach. They were concerned about the club and Victor’s motives for entering it. They were worried he had made the surveillance and was attempting to draw it out or shake it off. They couldn’t avoid sending a man inside, because they couldn’t afford to lose visual contact in case he was trying to dump them. But if he was trying to draw out surveillance he would be expecting a shadow to follow and would almost certainly make whoever followed him in.
But they couldn’t know for sure whether he was in fact trying to draw out surveillance or just interested in naked flesh. They had to send one man inside to re-establish a visual on Victor, and if they were overestimating his aggressive counter-surveillance tactics, it didn’t matter if they sent in another man needlessly. But they had gambled that if the club was a counter-surveillance ruse then he was already on to them and sacrificing the anonymity of an additional man was no great loss when they had to send one in regardless. But with two entering shortly after a civilian there was a chance at least one watcher would remain undetected.
Three of the crew identified left either four or five that Victor hadn’t seen. They wouldn’t all be men, because a competent team wouldn’t limit its options needlessly, but a woman couldn’t enter a strip club inconspicuously. Discounting the two drivers and the two passengers needed to relay information, there were between three and four pavement artists. The young guy in the cap wouldn’t be involved again for a while to avoid the risk of standing out, especially as they feared Victor might have spotted him, so that left two or three. And as the two shadows that had followed him inside were both men, then at least one of the remaining team members would be a woman and that woman would almost certainly be on foot.
Victor left his orange juice on the table and strolled over to the bartender, a casual walk, in no rush. The young guy straightened up as Victor neared and placed his fingertips on the edge of the bar.
‘What can I get for you, sir?’
‘I’ve got a delicate problem I’m hoping you could help me with.’
‘Problem?’
‘Yeah,’ Victor breathed. ‘I think my wife might have followed me here.’
The young guy suppressed a smile and nodded. ‘I understand, sir.’
‘You do?’
‘Sure. It does happen from time to time. Wives can get funny about this kind of thing. We can let you out of the back whenever you’re ready to go, and she won’t be allowed in on her own. Women have to be accompanied by a man. Which is not as uncommon as you think. Couples looking for to add some spice often—’
‘That’s very kind of you,’ Victor said, ‘but I’m wondering if you could ask the doorman to check if she’s out there.’
The bartender hesitated a moment, then nodded. ‘Yeah, sure. No problem at all.’
‘Thank you, you’re a lifesaver.’
The bartender produced a smug look, as though he considered this favour to have equivalence with saving a life. ‘What does she look like?’
Victor said, ‘She’s a brunette.’ A blonde or redhead would be too noticeable. ‘She’s tall.’ A shadow had to be at least of average male height to be effective in crowds. ‘She’ll be on the opposite side of the street if she’s there.’ The best vantage point. ‘I don’t know what she’s wearing, sorry.’ Better than supplying an incorrect guess.
The bartender nodded along as he committed the details to memory. ‘I’ll go ask.’
Victor turned and rested his elbows on the bar behind him while he pretended to be captivated by the bored dancer on the stage. He didn’t look at either of the two watchers, but he knew they would glance his way or keep him in their peripheral vision.
It took a little under three minutes for the young bartender to return. He was already nodding before he reached Victor, who would have preferred the absence of such an obvious gesture so as not to draw the curiosity of the watchers, but short of shouting to the bartender to stop, there wasn’t anything he could do.
‘She’s out there all right,’ the bartender said, happy to be playing a part in the apparent drama. ‘On the opposite side of the street, just like