‘We no longer have enough people to form two teams, ma’am. We have one team and . . .’

‘And three left over. And we both know which three, don’t we?’

‘Well, I do, ma’am.’

‘Matthew Farrell, Jane Lockland and Luke Parrish.’

‘And so do you.’

She sighed. The Time Police traditionally work in teams of four. There had been eight trainees – now there were seven. One complete team and three . . . misfits.

‘It would be those three, wouldn’t it?’

‘I’m afraid so, ma’am. And they’re a weak team. Farrell is very young, Lockland is very wet and Luke Parrish is – despite intensive efforts by his instructors – still Luke Parrish.’

She nodded. Notwithstanding their reputation as an organisation that firmly believed in strict control and discipline, the Time Police had realised quite early on that recruits are best left to form their own teams. Attempts to impose their own preferences never ended well. The best and strongest teams were those who selected each other. One team had already sorted itself out – which left three remaining.

A thought struck her. ‘Did Larsson leave because he saw himself being landed with these three?’

‘Not an impossibility, ma’am. They do have a certain reputation. Parrish the playboy, Lockland the mouse, and Matthew Farrell . . .’ He paused.

‘The weird one from St Mary’s.’

‘If you say so, ma’am.’

‘Has anyone yet induced him to have his hair cut?’

Her answer was in the silence that followed.

Captain Farenden shifted his weight, stretched out his bad leg and said delicately, ‘I have to ask, ma’am . . . why have we taken on Parrish, of all people?’

She sighed again. ‘After his son’s latest headline-grabbing escapade, Parrish senior came to see me with a proposition. He would see to it that the Amendment Bill curtailing our powers would never make it through the next reading if I accepted his son for the minimum term. Two years.’

Captain Farenden was shocked. ‘And obviously you said no, ma’am.’

‘Well, of course I did. I told him straight – not without a considerable donation to our Widows and Orphans Fund to sweeten the deal. Just a tip, Charlie – if you’re going to accept a bribe, always make it a big one. People despise you if you settle for a piddling little sum. Ask any senior cabinet minister.’

‘I shall do so at the first opportunity, ma’am. So we can look forward to having Mr Parrish for at least two years.’

‘Yes. I probably shouldn’t have accepted him. He’s all wrong for us. He’s intelligent enough – too intelligent, probably – but there’s no sense of responsibility there. Or loyalty.’

‘Great,’ said Captain Farenden. ‘Rich, handsome, entitled and a babe magnet.’ He paused. ‘A babe magnet, ma’am, is . . .’

‘I know what a babe magnet is, Charlie. How old do you think I am?’

He stared straight into her damaged face. ‘Difficult question to answer, ma’am.’