A plea.
* * * *
Rob heard a car pull up in the yard outside Catteneo’s headquarters on the industrial estate. Not many people likely to be around here at this time of night, so he knew who it had to be. The person he’d been delighted to get a text from asking for a meeting. He went to the roller-shutter door and raised it. In the light pouring from the interior of the building, Chez stopped and raised a hand to shield his eyes.
“Rob?”
“Yeah, sorry for dazzling you. Come in.”