‘Because they’re incriminating,’ smiled Della. ‘We like to keep our friends in line; and if Shearson ever misbehaved himself, we could quite easily oust him from power and imprison him on the evidence of his past swindles. How could the rest of the world complain about that? The man’s an obvious, proven criminal. Apart from that, we needed to confiscate his personal millions, so that he would no longer have the means to escape us, nor to bribe anybody to help him.’

‘And why are you telling us this confidential and privileged information?’ asked Peter Kaiser. ‘Shouldn’t you have waited until Russian troops were actually wetting their boots on Malibu Beach?’

‘I’m telling you because there’s no other way I could have explained that there’s been a change of plan. We’re not going to attempt to rescue Ed’s wife and daughter; and we’re not going to attempt to lay our hands on that stock of food. Look at it – there’s a full-scale riot going on down there. All the people in that supermarket will be dead in an hour, and all the food will be looted. It’s not worth the risk.’

‘Risk?’ asked Peter Kaiser. ‘What risk?’

‘The risk of losing the next President of the latest addition to the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. That’s what risk.’

Ed gripped the steering-wheel with sweaty hands. He could try to wrench the pump-gun out of Della’s hands, but he knew that it was hopeless. She would have blown his face off before he had even turned around. He stared at the leaping dames at the intersection of Highland and Franklin, and his eyes watered with hopelessness, with tiredness, and with glare.

Shearson said, ‘I’m a man of some influence, you know, my dear Della. A figure of respect. I’m quite sure I could go some way towards quelling that mob of lunatics.’

‘They’d rip you apart,’ said Della. ‘They’re no better than wild animals.’

‘Well, if you say so,’ shrugged Shearson, drawing Ed’s Colt .45 out of his voluminous coat and pointing it at the back of Della’s head.

Ed stared at Della in total horror. She caught the look on his face, frowned, and said, ‘Ed, what’s the—’

Shearson fired, and Della’s face seemed to expand in front of Ed’s eyes like an over-inflated carnival balloon. Then there was blood and glass everywhere, and Della jerked forward in her seat. Ed’s ears rang with the noise of the shot.

‘Well,’ said Shearson, handing the .45 to Ed. ‘Severe times merit severe measures. I may be morally flawed, but I’m still a patriot. You’re next to her, Mr Hardesty. Do you mind kicking her out of the door?’

Ed opened the driver’s door, climbed down, and walked around the hood. He opened the passenger door, and lifted Della carefully down to the sidewalk.