‘Is this used for training Met and Kent police officers as well?’ Jane asked as they got out of the car.

‘No,’ he said simply.

Jane pursed her lips, determined not to be riled by him. She collected her handbag, locked the car and followed him to the entry door. There was a long corridor with various safety notices and rules and regulations in glass-fronted frames screwed into the wall. Elliott moved quickly along the corridor, then opened another coded door at the far end.

‘OK, we are going to go down to the indoor moving-target range. We have the facility for half an hour before the troops come in.’

Jane followed him down the staircase to a long room, with wooden sections that looked like shops but with no glass in the windows. The only furniture in the room was a bare wooden table and two old chairs. She noticed a switchboard at the side of the entry door, which had eight green push button knobs, which she assumed was for controlling the moving targets.

Elliott pushed back his hood and lowered the zip on his tracksuit as she placed her handbag down on one of the chairs. He opened his briefcase, then took out a handgun and a box of bullets.

‘You are going to be using this Smith & Wesson snub-nose revolver, which fires .38 caliber rounds. It’s got a lot more kick to it than the .22 you used last time.’ He carefully placed the gun and bullets on the table and, with his hands on his hips, gave Jane a sideways look. ‘Have you been practicing your breathing?’

‘Yes, I have.’

‘Good. Now, I want you to pick up the gun and, with both arms outstretched, exactly as you would if you were aiming at a target, move around the entire perimeter of this range. Get the feel of the gun and your surroundings, keep moving and continually look to both sides of your body as well.’

Jane picked up the revolver and checked that it was empty. Elliott gave her a nod of approval. She extended both arms and carefully positioned her hands and thumbs in the correct way. Elliott watched with his arms folded as she began to walk around the room.

‘Keep the gun up,’ he barked. ‘And look to the sides.’

Her muscles were already aching and she found it hard to maintain the shooting position and, at the same time, walk and turn without losing her balance.

‘Keep steady. Concentrate!’ he shouted.

By the time she returned to the table, her arms felt like lead weights and it was a relief to put the gun down. At that moment, the door opened and an official-looking man wearing army combat fatigues walked in and approached Elliott.

He looked at his watch. ‘You’ve got fifteen minutes before the MOD police need the range.’

‘We’ll be ready to go in a couple of minutes,’ Elliott said.