‘What?’ he replied. He could see the Q-Park sign at the corner of the road. He broke into a run.

‘You’re not only my business partner, you’re my closest friend. My mother’s in a home, my father’s dead and I don’t have any other family. If someone wanted to hurt the people closest to me … well, it’s you.’

‘Great. I befriend some loser with no friends, and now I have to suffer.’

Bloom didn’t reply.

‘Well, I’ll tell you what, they’re not coming after you or me without a bloody good fight. I’ll call you back.’ He reached the pedestrian entrance to the car park. He needed a ticket. Damn it. He ran towards the vehicle entrance. One car was waiting to go in and two were queuing to come out. As the car drove into the car park, he sprinted up to the ticket machine and pressed the button. It emerged frustratingly slowly. When it finally came out he ran back to the pedestrian entrance, inserted the ticket, then took the stairs two at a time.

The open-air top floor had ten cars parked directly in front of him, another dozen in the central parking bays, and a couple more further away. Beyond them, he could see the city and the train-station roof. But in front of that, at the very edge, were two figures with their backs to him, one behind the other, just as he’d held Lana over the railway bridge.

Should he run at them? Or creep up quietly? Neither had turned to look his way. As he was going through his options, his phone began a jingle that indicated his eight minutes were up. He silenced it, but it was too late. The man holding Sarah turned and locked eyes with Jameson.

Stuart Rose-Butler.

Rose-Butler smiled.

Jameson charged at them. It was the only option left.

Rose-Butler grabbed hold of a pole that supported a narrow canopy running the circumference of the car park and pulled himself up on to the perimeter wall. He yanked Sarah up on to the wall beside him. She still had her back to Jameson. He’d been expecting her to cry out or plead for her life, but she wasn’t making a sound. He was in awe of her bravery.

‘Rose-Butler,’ he called. ‘You psychopathic fuck! I made it in time. Let her go.’ He was too far away. Even if he grabbed Sarah, at this speed he’d send her over the edge. Rose-Butler had the advantage.

‘The challenge was to get here in time, Mr Jameson. But not in time to stop me – in time to watch.’ Rose-Butler stared right at him. The fucker was enjoying himself.

‘You’ve got a son now,’ Jameson shouted. He was still five rows away. ‘If you hurt her, I’ll hurt him. You have my word.’