Ben looks down while Safa clears her throat. The legend of Harry Madden was taught in every school for years. Movies, books, television series. Even coining the phrase ‘Mad Harry’. This man is not Harry Madden, but the belief he projects is overwhelming.

Harry doesn’t say anything but just turns and stares ahead, nodding slowly. ‘What’s through there?’ he asks, looking at the door.

‘Dunno,’ Ben says. ‘Way out maybe?’

Harry sighs heavily and looks at Safa. ‘I’m going to escape now.’

‘Okay,’ she replies slowly.

‘I’ll do my best not to hurt you if you try and stop me.’

‘I’m not going to stop you.’

He looks at Ben.

‘Oh, I won’t try and stop you either,’ Ben says quickly.

Harry walks slowly to the door and pauses with his hand stretched out as though expecting some kind of reaction.

‘Nowt?’ he asks without turning round from the door while Safa and Ben exchange a glance. With an almost disappointed tut he slaps his hand down noisily on the handle, clearly not expecting it to open and stepping back in surprise when it swings in towards him.

‘Shit, it’s open?’ Ben asks.

‘Wikipedia said Ben Ryder was a good investigator,’ Safa says, proving a point.

‘Yeah? Wikipedia also said Harry Madden was a commando in the Second World War . . .’

‘Empty,’ Harry says from the doorway as he looks left and right.

‘Really?’ Ben asks, going over with Safa to join him at the door. Harry steps out, allowing them space to move into a wide corridor in the same design as their rooms with concrete walls, floor and ceiling. Harsh strip lights overhead and the same solid, metal-riveted doors on both sides.

‘See this?’ Safa says, pointing at the outside of the main door and their names stencilled in black. Harry Madden. Ben Ryder. Safa Patel.

‘Feels warmer in here,’ Ben whispers, tugging at the collar on his grey tracksuit top. ‘Which way?’

‘No names on these doors,’ Harry says, walking down the corridor to the first door on the opposite side.

‘Are they open?’ Safa asks.