Abbott mulled it over. Cuckoo was correct. Perhaps there was a part of him prepared to go along with the idea because he wanted the risk and got off on the danger and knew that it kept him away from the bottle. And yet any upsides were surely outweighed by the risks. Even with the insurance policy of Ward, Brace and Miller, there were still far too many variables. There would be no IA. No DA. Maybe going up against the Nortons that way fulfilled a deep need in him. Maybe it was also a dumb thing to do.

Two things could be true at the same time.

‘OK,’ he said to Cuckoo after a long pause, ‘what then? What instead?’

‘You make a copy of the CD, and you send one of them to me.’

‘And what do you do?’

‘I blow the gaff.’

‘Wait a minute, the last time we spoke, you told me that there were internal flags on the files. We already know that the Nortons have influences far and wide. Why won’t they just use that power to keep a lid on it?’

‘Because if you or someone else tried to blow the gaff, then sure, that would happen. But if I do it? Let’s just say that in the same way that I know how to circumvent their flags on the system, so I know how to sidestep the fingers of influence.’

‘Reminds me. You were going to find out who’d been nosing around.’

‘To cut a long story short, some bloke called Johnny from human resources was the one who triggered the flag, but he was making enquiries on behalf of somebody else.’

‘When do we find out who?’

‘Good question. He’s due in my office in about ten minutes.

Watch this space.’

‘OK, in the meantime, we’ll do it your way. I’ll get you the disc and I’ll make myself scarce.’

‘And going after the Nortons individually?’

‘We’ll see,’ said Abbott, who was already beginning to feel a little flat, his eyes going to that bottle of vodka as his feeling of sweet purpose slowly dissolved. ‘We’ll see.’

Abbott finished the call then left his room, found a member of staff, and cadged a Jiffy bag from her. Back in his room, he slipped the CD inside the envelope and ordered a courier, telling them that the bike was going to Bedfordshire and that he’d provide the specific address to the rider.

The phone rang. Cuckoo again. ‘Johnny from human resources came back. He was doing a favour for a mate at GCHQ.’

‘Right,’ said Abbott. ‘Which mate? What’s his name?’