Vernon shook his head and poured himself another glass of brandy. ‘Not on your life. Contract it out, Billy. A couple of real pros should be enough. One of the south London mobs might be interested. Just make sure they don’t know who they’re working for, that’s all.’

‘How much can I offer?’ Stratton asked.

‘Five hundred.’

‘For Craig?’ Stratton’s eyes widened. ‘That’s a good price, Mr Vernon.’

‘For both of them, you fool. Miller and Craig.’ Vernon raised his glass of brandy in an ironic salute. ‘Down the hatch,’ he said and smiled grimly.

10

It was dark in the office except for the pool of light falling across the drawing board from the anglepoise lamp. Duncan Craig put down his slide-rule and stretched with a sigh. It was almost eight o’clock and for the past two hours he had worked on alone after the rest of his staff had left.

There were footsteps in the corridor and as he turned, the door opened and the night guard entered, a black and tan Alsatian on a lead at his side. He put a thermos flask on the desk and grinned.

‘Just checking, Colonel. I’ve brought you a cup of tea.’

‘Thanks very much, George.’ Craig ruffled the dog’s ears. ‘What time’s your next round – nine o’clock isn’t it?’

‘That’s right, sir. Will you still be here?’

‘The way this thing is going I’ll probably be here all night.’

The door closed behind George and Craig stood there listening to his footsteps move along the corridor outside. When they had finally faded away, he went into the washroom quickly and closed the door.

When he reappeared five minutes later he presented a strange and sinister picture in dark pants and sweater, and wearing an old balaclava helmet, his face darkened by a brown make-up stick. In his left hand he carried a canvas hold-all. He dropped it on the floor beside his desk, picked up the telephone and dialled a number.

The receiver was lifted instantly at the other end. ‘Yes?’

‘I’m leaving. I’ll ring you again in thirty-five minutes.’

‘I’ll be waiting.’

He replaced the receiver, picked up the hold-all and opened the door, listening for a moment before moving into the corridor.

He took the service lift down to the basement, walked through the work’s garage, helping himself to a jerry can full of petrol on the way, and left through a small judas gate. It was raining slightly and he crossed the yard, keeping to the shadows, scrambled over the low wall and dropped down onto the grass bank that sloped into the canal.

He crouched at the water’s edge, opened the hold-all and pulled out the collapsible dinghy it contained. When he activated the compression cylinder, the boat inflated with a soft hiss and he dropped it into the water and pushed off into the darkness.