Abbot sat down next to Maria. ‘With respect, Maria, Chris has protected Prince Harry and the British Prime Minister in the past. You don’t need to worry about his credentials.’

Keller looked at Foster while Abbot was talking.

‘He saved King Abdullah from an assassination attempt last year,’ Abbot continued, and Foster held up a hand.

‘Look, I’m not a salesman. People come to me because they need me. If you don’t think you need me, that’s fine.’

‘I think we need you,’ Kirsten Keller said, speaking for the first time. Her voice was soft but held an air of uncompromising authority. It was a trait Foster always noticed in people who had found success early. ‘I haven’t slept for days.’

Foster studied her face. Her eyes were rimmed in red, and faint blue shadows were smudged below them. In that moment she looked terrified.

He had watched Keller’s career highlights via YouTube on the Eurostar train. She was impressive. Her explosive power made her look untouchable on the court. Not like the woman sitting in front of him today. She bent down and reached into an expensive-looking clutch bag, pulling out a folded sheet of white paper.

‘This is why I need your help,’ she said, her hands shaking as she put it on the table between them.

‘Right,’ he said. ‘Let’s see what we’ve got.’

He was less than careful with the paper, making a point of creasing it slightly as he handled it. All designed to say to Keller, It’s just a piece of paper.

The page contained a small, neatly typed message: Good luck in the final. I’m coming. There was also a loose memory stick along with it. It had been attached to the note and there was a tear where Keller had pulled it off. Next to that, a lock of hair was crudely taped onto the paper.

‘What’s on the memory stick?’ Foster asked.

‘A video of my parents’ house,’ Keller said.

Foster studied the words. Not much to go on.

‘It’s horrible, isn’t it?’ Keller said quietly.

Foster looked at her and smiled softly. ‘I promise I’ve seen a lot worst. Do you think they were in the grounds when they recorded the video?’

Keller looked surprised by the question, then thought about it. ‘No, I think they were filming from the street. But you can see my mom in the window.’

Foster nodded. ‘And the hair?’

‘My dog,’ she said. ‘The police tested it and it’s definitely dog hair. There’s no way I could bring a dog out on the tour, so Benji lives back home with my parents. Someone took a chunk out of his fur back in the States and then brought it over here with them. We found a patch cut out of his coat, when we checked.’

Foster glanced at Abbot. ‘Have you watched the tape?’