Helen stared at Stella, for once in her life beyond speech. Lindsay jumped in. “I don’t think that’s going to be possible, Stella. I don’t think Helen would feel comfortable with that.”

“I don’t want to be in the same hemisphere as you, never mind the same company,” Helen snarled. “I’m leaving this partnership and I’m taking my grant money with me and I’m going to set up my own company that is totally vermin free, even if I have to get Rentokil to vet every member of staff.”

“That’s not what we want, Helen,” Stella said calmly. “Your expertise and your street cred is really important to the company. If you were that dispensable, don’t you think we’d have dumped you ages ago? If you go, you go without a penny. The legal battles to dissolve the partnership against our wishes will take years and every penny you’ve got.”

It was Lindsay’s turn to look thunderstruck. “I don’t think you appreciate the position you’re in,” she said incredulously. “We’ve got you bang to rights. All we have to do to end your career is to call the Fraud Squad and show how you expropriated the money to start Shooting Star with no intention of paying it back.”

Suddenly, Stella jumped forward and grabbed the documents off the desk. Lindsay snatched at them, but Stella danced across to the corner behind Guy, waving the papers. “No evidence, no case,” she said, grinning crazily. She grabbed Guy’s lighter, spun the wheel and let the flame dance along the bottom of the pages. The papers caught and yellow flames started to lick their way up the paper.

With a scream of rage, Helen threw the jug of water she was still carrying across the room at Stella. She raised one arm to fend it off and the jug tipped, then tumbled, cascading down Stella and the papers. The flames died, leaving the papers charred and sodden. Stella laughed. “You don’t stop me that easily,” she said, grasping the soggy paper and tearing it into irregular pieces. “Get the vids, Guy.”

Showing more savoir faire than he’d managed so far, Guy swept the videos off the desk into the wastepaper bin, which he clutched to his chest. Helen leapt at him, clawing his arms with her nails, but he clung on grimly to his burden. Lindsay stepped up behind Helen and grabbed her, pulling her back.

“Leave it, Helen,” she said.

“But they’re destroying the evidence,” she said, her voice teetering on the edge of a sob.

“And we can’t stop them. Two on two, nobody with a weapon, it’s just going to degenerate into a rammy. She’s determined to destroy it, we’re not going to stop her, and the cops aren’t going to get here in time. Come on, Helen, don’t give her the satisfaction.”