“Afraid not. You see, I don’t know the details of every single item you removed from his desk, but Harry does. It’s okay. He’s not going to give you a bad time. I’ll be back in a minute, okay?”

He nodded reluctantly. Lindsay left him and ran down the stairs. He was pathetic, she thought to herself as she walked down the path toward her car. She’d be happy to bet that he hadn’t even had the nous to make copies of the stuff he’d stolen. But then, in his favor, she’d seen no sign that he planned to blackmail Harry, merely to cash in on his secret.

Harry was cowering in the seat of the car, a newspaper hiding his face. When Lindsay pulled the door open, he nearly jumped out of his skin. “Well?” he demanded. “Have you sorted him out?”

“£750. You go and get the money and come up to Flat 9. Alex will hand over the stuff so you can check it.” And that will be the end of this whole sordid business, she thought wearily to herself.

“£750? Couldn’t you get him any cheaper than that? I’m not made of money, you know,” Harry protested.

“I told you before, if you get change out of a grand, it’s cheap at the price. Just be grateful I’m not charging you for my time on top of what you’re paying Alex,” Lindsay snapped, furious at his pettiness. She handed him the car keys. “Be very careful with the car. I’ll see you back here as soon as you can make it.”

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

“For Christ’s sake, Harry, surely you don’t need a minder to go to a cash machine? I’m going back to make sure Alex doesn’t do a runner,” Lindsay said over her shoulder as she marched exasperatedly back to the house. Suddenly Alex McNaught’s company seemed more appealing than that of Harry Campbell M.P.

By the time she returned, Alex had dressed in a tight white teeshirt and shrink-to-fit jeans that hugged his narrow hips and slim legs. He gave Lindsay a nervous grin and asked, “Did he agree?”

“He did,” she replied.

“Christ, I bet that hurt,” Alex said, pulling a face. “Getting that guy to part with money was like getting blood from a stone. Want a coffee?”

He’d obviously decided she was okay, Lindsay thought. She wondered if it was the line about getting back to Sophie that had swung it. “I’d love one,” she said. “Milk, no sugar.”

He turned off the kettle he’d already set to boil and made two mugs of instant. “How come you got into this?” he asked, settling down in the chair nearest the fire.

“It’s a long story,” Lindsay said. “His sister’s an old pal of mine. And you?”