‘Get what sorted?’ asked Crazy Boy.

Shepherd kept his face impassive and his tone neutral, concealing the growing tension that he was feeling. ‘We just have to check your tyre pressures, sir, they appear to be a little deflated.’

‘The tyres?’ he said. ‘This is about the tyres?’ He spoke in Somali to Two Knives and both men laughed.

Shepherd stood to the side and Crazy Boy opened the cab door and climbed out. Shepherd couldn’t see any sign of a weapon. ‘And the passenger too,’ he said.

He walked with Crazy Boy to the rear of the truck. Drivers were braking to see what was going on. Shepherd walked Crazy Boy around the back of the truck and on to the grass verge so that the vehicle was blocking the view of the passing traffic.

‘Please stay where you are, sir,’ said Shepherd, and he walked up to the passenger side. ‘Can you get out, please. I need to see you at the rear of the vehicle.’

Shepherd reached for the door handle and pulled open the door. He caught a glimpse of a revolver and stepped back, dropping his clipboard and reaching inside his fluorescent jacket. He heard Crazy Boy shout something but all Shepherd’s attention was focused on the man in the cab and the gun in his hand. He grabbed the butt of the Glock and pulled it out and fired twice just as Two Knives was swinging his weapon up. Both rounds caught Two Knives in the neck, just under the chin, and he fell back as blood sprayed across the dashboard.

Shepherd turned just in time to see Crazy Boy reaching inside his overalls. ‘Stay where you are!’ screamed Shepherd. ‘Let me see your hands!’

Crazy Boy stared at Shepherd with undisguised hatred, froze for a fraction of a second, and then started to pull out a gun. Shepherd shot him twice in the chest and Crazy Boy fell back on to the grass, shuddered once and lay still.

Shepherd took a deep breath, then holstered his gun. He walked back to the police car. Traffic was continuing to drive by; the truck had shielded the killings from view and he doubted that anyone had seen what had happened.

As he reached the car his mobile phone rang. It was Major Gannon. ‘Can you talk?’

Shepherd walked away from the car. ‘Sure.’

‘You done there with your secret squirrel stuff?’

‘All taken care of,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’ll fill you in when I get back.’

‘I’d rather that was sooner than later,’ said the Major.

‘Is something wrong?’

‘I need to see you in Hereford, now.’

‘What’s happened?’

‘It needs a face-to-face, Spider. I’m sending a chopper.’

‘I’m miles away from Battersea,’ said Shepherd. ‘On the M25.’

‘I know exactly where you are,’ said the Major. ‘I took the liberty of using your GPS. The chopper’s on its way to you.’

Shepherd heard the whop-whop-whop of a helicopter in the distance. He squinted up at the sky. It was a Eurocopter Dauphin. ‘It’s here,’ said Shepherd.