She stared at me in silence for a few moments.

‘I dislike many things, but do you know what I dislike most of all?’

‘No, ma’am.’

‘Gaps. I loathe gaps. Gaps in doors, gaps in windows, gaps in bathroom tiles, long gaps between sequels to books. But you know which gaps I hate the most?’

‘No, ma’am.’

‘Gaps in my knowledge. You left the Siddons at 10.30 in Aurora’s command car and met up with Jonesy at midday.’

She tapped her head.

‘I don’t like secrets and I don’t like Aurora. I was going to get married, start a family. Aurora stuck her oar in and Logan hightailed it out of the Sector. That wasn’t enough for her and next thing I know she’s killed him – protecting your useless bony arse. So when a Deputy who has newly arrived in more-than-fishy circumstances has a time gap of ninety minutes, I get seriously pissed off. So let’s start again: what did you two talk about?’

‘We didn’t.’

‘So you said nothing at all over a cosy coffee and sandwich in the Wincarnis?’

My heart sank. The denials meant nothing. She knew – through ShamBob, most likely, or anyone from the Scrabble club. I was a fool to think that there could be any secrets in Sector Twelve. Our meeting had probably already been around the Open Telephone Network. Twice.

‘Just  . . . stuff,’ I stammered, ‘gossip, advice.’

‘Oh, wait,’ she said, ‘so you did speak to her. Just a second ago you said you didn’t. You’re a lying little bedshit, Worthing. Do you know the penalty for lying to a Sector Chief?’

I’d grown hot and sweaty by now. A prickly heat was dancing down my back and I could feel beads of sweat on my brow. I’d never had a grilling like this before. I could even see Jonesy beginning to look around, wishing herself out of the office.

‘Dismissal,’ I said.

‘I’m sorry, I can’t hear you.’

‘Dismissal.’

‘No, it’s a punch in the eye, then dismissal. Strictly speaking it’s dismissal only, the punch in the eye I added strictly for my own pleasure. Now, let’s start again. What did you talk about?’

I stared at Toccata, then at Jonesy.

‘You’re going to have to tell her,’ said Jonesy.

I sat there, feeling hot and wretched and with a pained expression on my face.

‘Frozen Gronk’s piss in a handbag,’ said Toccata, ‘did she oath you?’