“Yeah, right. Well, what do you think? Do we go in, or what?” Sophie asked as she swung round the corner to circle the block.

“I think so. No lights showing. Park up somewhere unobtrusive, and we’ll go for it.”

They decided to enter the building via the underground car park, rather than the more conspicuous main entrance, next door but one to a busy Burger King. At the head of the ramp, Lindsay suddenly stopped without warning, forcing Sophie to stumble into her back. “Shit!” Lindsay said, “Look, closed-circuit video surveillance!”

“So?” Sophie said. “We’re not burglars. We’re not going to steal anything, we’re not about to break and enter. You are a member of AMWU, which I reckon gives you a right to be on the premises. And I’m wearing an Amnesty International sweatshirt.”

“Remind me never to call you if I need legal representation,” Lindsay muttered. “Okay, I’ll take your word for it, against my better judgement. Just keep your head down, and follow me.”

“Eat your heart out, Catwoman,” Sophie said under her breath as Lindsay set off, hugging the walls and tucking her head down into her chest.

They quickly worked their way round to the building’s entrance, avoiding the arcs of the cameras as far as possible. Lindsay keyed in the combination Pauline had given her for the general secretary. No one had thought to cancel it following Tom Jack’s spectacular plunge, and the door lock clicked open. The two women slipped inside, finding themselves in a dimly lit corridor. At the end was a lift. Lindsay punched the call button, and in a matter of seconds, the doors slid noiselessly open.

“Which floor?” Sophie asked, finger poised.

“Er . . . I don’t actually know,” Lindsay confessed, scuffing the toe of her trainer on the carpet.

“You—don’t—know?” Sophie demanded, articulating each word slowly and distinctly as the doors closed.

“Not as such,” Lindsay said. “I couldn’t really ask, could I? Not without making it really obvious in a room full of head office staff that I was about to go off and do a Watergate.”

“Fine. So we’re in an eight-storey office building without a clue which office we should be looking in? Well, Lindsay, that’s a lot of locks to pick before morning,” Sophie said, pulling a rueful smile to take the edge off her words.