Clifford, with years of his ex-wife’s tantrums under his belt, remained oblivious. Quietly, he said to Monroe, ‘My God, did you see that? The woman’s a genius. You’re a genius. I’m a bloody genius.’

Beside him, Monroe made simmer down gestures with his hands. ‘We’re a long way from being out of the woods yet,’ he told his employer quietly.

What he kept to himself was the fact that Heidi wouldn’t be able to pull that same trick with either Yellow or Green. As Monroe knew well, she and Trent were acquainted. Ditto she and Abbott.

Meanwhile, down below, Abbott heard the gunshot and scooted for cover, finding it in the shadow of what looked like a wave swinger, except that instead of bearing the usual colourful, carnival colours, it was decked out in black and Murder World’s signature blood red.

He waited for more shots. None came. An accidental discharge, perhaps? One combatant taking aim on another, a pot-shot?

Maybe so. Either way, it was the first real proof he’d had that there were indeed other players in the game. He peered around the side of the wave-swinger base.

In the conference room they watched as Abbott approached the trundling rollercoaster from one angle. Their eyes went from that screen to another, where Heidi and Trent were also making their way towards the park’s centrepiece, but from a different angle. Heidi had retrieved her overalls and gun and was carrying them.

Their breath was held. Even Montana, who had gone from entertaining thoughts of simply storming out to regaining her seat. She no longer had a stake in the outcome and yet remained enthralled by the spectacle.

‘It looks like Heidi and our man will be the next to meet,’ said Ross, who seemed to have lost some of his sardonic demeanour along the way. Perhaps he was thinking what Kennedy was thinking, which was that their man Scolar needed gunfire to act as a cover for his own involvement – and so far the only bullet fired had been an accidental one.

Certainly, that was exactly what Scolar himself was thinking, perched in his bird’s-eye view, watching the woman come together with the friendly, Trent. Which order outweighed the other? he wondered. Should he still save Trent, even if she attacked without her gun?

Getting closer now. There was a half-built structure of some attraction between them. ‘Acid Bath’ it said. Some kind of underground ghost train, where the riders travelled in old-style baths. The building above, mostly constructed though still shrouded in scaffolding, was clearly meant for visitors to queue up in. Small windows, yet to have glass fitted, allowed a view through from one side to the other.

From his vantage point, it seemed almost impossible to Scolar that Heidi and Trent wouldn’t see one another, but he knew that things would look very different at ground level.

And then.

Heidi froze.