‘We searched them before dumping the bodies. They had heavy coats. They were both carrying duct tape, gags, and pistols with suppressors. The one I shot had a little video camera too. Fucking freak. But then Cesky probably needed some proof before paying out on the contract. We didn’t go looking for a vehicle, but if we had, I’m sure we’d have found heavy plastic bags and cutting tools in the back. They were hitters, for certain. Drunken, incompetent hitters.’

‘But with nothing about their persons to tie them to Cesky.’

‘I think we’re a little beyond the realm of reasonable doubt. No, they weren’t carrying notarised contracts for our execution or a line of credit from Henry’s personal banker. But the duct tape and the silencers were good enough for me.’

They were good enough for Mr Shah too, she could tell. One brusque nod was the extent of his comment on the matter. Jules found that her hands had stopped shaking while she was telling the story. Perhaps it had taken her mind off recent unpleasant events, although her stomach remained a hot, roiling mess at the memory of her friend disappearing inside the explosion that had destroyed his boat. She had just resumed her seat when they were interrupted by three soft knocks on the door.

‘Yes,’ barked Shah. He had left instructions not to be interrupted.

The door opened and Jules beamed at the sight of another face from the past. She’d not yet had a chance to say hello to the man she once knew as Corporal Birendra, once of Her Majesty’s Royal Gurkha Regiment.

‘Miss Julianne,’ he said, returning the smile.

She was out of her chair before Shah could reprimand him. ‘Oh my god, Birendra, it feels like years! Well, it has been years – but it feels even longer. Jesus, how are you? I’m so glad to see you. Nowadays I’m glad to see any familiar face, let alone a friendly one.’

Shah cleared his throat loudly behind her as Birendra shuffled into the room. Jules rushed over to give the man a hug. He disentangled himself with apologies before addressing his boss.

‘I did not wish to interrupt you, but it is the police, sir. They are on the phone again, insisting on another interview.’

‘Do they have further information about the bombing at my house?’ Shah asked him.

Birendra looked chagrined. ‘I do not think so, sir. They are insisting you attend an interview with them this afternoon. At the Bagot Road station.’

‘And they have given no indication of what they wish to discuss?’

‘I am sorry, no. They would not say any more.’