Even so, she backed up, head swinging this way and that and just a little panic creeping back.

‘No,’ she said, ‘I need to see a uniformed officer.’

‘Of course, of course,’ he smiled, holding up his hands and staying in place. ‘You hear that?’ he pointed. ‘That siren? That’s for us. That’s the uniforms arriving literally any second now. How about you stay there, and I’ll stay here, several paces away, and we just wait? Would that be OK?’

The police car had appeared now, was climbing up the road towards them. She relaxed a little. She looked at the plain-clothes guy. ‘Thank you,’ she said, with true gratitude.

‘That’s quite all right, Mrs Oakley,’ he said. His smile widened. ‘That’s quite all right.’

***

Abbott jumped the last few steps of the fire escape, reached the ground and took a look around.

Not a soul to be seen. He jogged forward fifty yards or so, so that he was able to see around the hotel building. Visible was a border hedge, after that the car park. In the car park two Range Rovers. Enemy Range Rovers.

He moved around and then heard the voice. ‘Hold it there, Abbott.’

Appearing from the door of the hotel was one of the goons. He held the receptionist. Had a gun to her head. ‘Drop your gun and put the laptop on the ground,’ he said. ‘Do it now, Abbott, or I’ll put a bullet in her.’

The receptionist was staring at him, petrified, the skin on her face taut with tense muscle. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, almost whispering the words, mouthing them.

‘Are you serious?’ said Abbott. ‘I mean, this is the woman who sold me out, yeah? I’m supposed to give a damn about her?’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said again. Louder this time. Tears ran down her cheeks.

‘Yeah, whatever,’ sneered the guy. ‘You think you’re one of the good guys, Abbott. I know you do. Now put the gun down. Lay the laptop on the ground and step away.’

‘Mate, you have got me all wrong,’ said Abbott, and he put a round into the receptionist. Although maybe the goon was right because he put the round through her shoulder and into the guy behind, the guy shouting in pain and surprise as he peeled off and to the ground, holding onto his wounded upper arm in agony.

Abbott wondered briefly whether he had been captured on CCTV and then decided that it didn’t really matter. Things had gone beyond that; they had overtaken the usual social and legal boundaries, and he had a feeling that everything here would be wiped from existence, the receptionist either killed or paid off, same for any witnesses. He had the feeling that his enemies were people who could, if they wished, control the world.