Ross spent his time writing an update while considering the alternatives, which he accepted only threw up yet more questions for William to consider when he woke. That didn’t happen until the wheels touched down on the runway at Brussels National Airport forty minutes later.
（a） Did Faulkner fly straight on to another airport?
（b） Did he stay at the airport overnight? Check every hotel within a two-mile radius.
（c）Is there a direct flight to Nice （Monte Carlo） from Brussels?
（d） Have we come to a dead end?
A uniformed security officer met them at the bottom of the steps as they disembarked from the plane. Clearly the commander hadn’t been idle.
‘How can I help?’ he asked, after he’d shaken hands with them.
‘How many flights took off from Brussels,’ William asked as he checked his watch, ‘after seven thirty yesterday evening?’
‘Half a dozen, no more,’ said the security officer. ‘I’d need to check the log,’ he added as they walked in a different direction to all the other passengers.
Once they were in his office, it took Mr King only a few moments before he pronounced, ‘Paris, St Petersburg, Manchester, Helsinki, Luton and Barcelona.’
William studied the list for some time before concluding, ‘My bet would be Paris, because he could have taken a domestic flight from there to Nice.’
‘Barcelona could also be an outside possibility,’ suggested Ross.
‘Agreed. You check with Air France, while I talk to Iberia.’
‘Were you both on duty last night?’ was William’s first question as he reached the checkin counter. He once again produced a large photograph of Ralph Neville and asked if either of them had seen him, but all he got was a shake of the head.
‘Barcelona is Iberian Airways’ last flight out of Brussels on a Saturday night,’ said ‘Blanca’， ‘and as usual it was packed with holidaymakers.’
‘This man wouldn’t have looked as if he was going on holiday,’ said William.
They both took a closer look, but it elicited the same response.
‘Can I check the passenger list?’ he asked.
The security guard nodded, and one of the booking clerks swung the console around. William double-checked both classes, but there wasn’t a name on the list that he recognized.
‘Thank you,’ Blanca said, as Ross walked across to join him, to report the same negative result for passengers flying to De Gaulle.
‘Even if he was on one of those flights,’ said William, ‘it would still leave us with about three hundred suspects. We’ll have to accept he’s disappeared again.’
‘He’s beginning to make Houdini look like an amateur.’
‘He’s beginning to make me look like a raw recruit,’ said William with considerable feeling.
‘Do pretty girls always chase after you?’ said Ross.
William turned around to see one of the young Iberian booking clerks running towards them.
‘Can I take a closer look at that photograph?’ Blanca asked.
William took the photo out of an inside pocket and handed it to her.
She studied the man’s face for some time before she placed a hand over Faulkner’s forehead and continued to look even more closely. ‘Yes, I’m confident it’s him. One of the first-class passengers on the flight to Barcelona was bald. When I queried the photo in his passport, he told me he’d just had his head shaved, even produced the bill,’ she said, pointing to a barber shop on the other side of the concourse.
‘His first mistake,’ said Ross.
‘Do you have a name?’ asked William.
‘Ricardo Rossi. I remember, because according to his passport he was a dress designer.’
‘I’d kiss you,’ said Ross, ‘but I’m not allowed to.’
‘How disappointing,’ she said, and kissed him on both cheeks before returning to her desk.
‘I wish I lived in Brussels,’ said Ross. William didn’t hear him because he was already on the move, having spotted that the sign on the barber’s door was being switched from ‘Ouvert’ to ‘Fermé’。 The security man chased after him and quickly produced his pass. The door was reluctantly opened a few inches.
‘Did you shave this man’s head yesterday evening?’ asked William, holding up a photograph of Neville.
‘I wasn’t here yesterday,’ came the gruff reply. ‘It would have been Carlo, and today’s his day off. If the customer’s got a complaint you can come back in the morning.’ The door slammed and the blind was pulled down.