Phil sighed heavily and something seemed to go out of him. ‘Nothing. Nothing at all. Just watch it, that’s all.’

‘I always do.’

He turned and went out into the night, clattering down the fire escape to the cobbled yard, a strange restless excitement surging up inside him at the prospect of being back on the job after a year of space.

Phil stood in the centre of the living-room, a slight frown on his face, and beneath him from the garage came a sudden surge of power as an engine roared into life. As he opened the door, the little Mini-Cooper moved across the yard into the drive and disappeared round the corner of the house.

He stood there in the rain at the top of the iron stairway listening to the sound of it fade into the distance on the run down the hill towards the city. And when the silence came, he was afraid. For the first time since he was a little boy he was really and truly afraid.

4

The wind howled fiercely around the corner of the Town Hall and hail rattled the windows of the Information Room.

‘God help any poor lad walking the pavement on a night like this,’ Grant said as the Duty Inspector turned from the telephone.

‘It keeps the other lot indoors as well, sir,’ the Inspector pointed out. ‘One good thing about this flu. It’s no respecter of persons. There are just as many villains on their backs tonight as our lads. I can tell that by the 999 calls. Only five so far. We’re usually good for thirty at least by this time.’

‘A good thing, too, with only four mobiles out to cover the city.’ Grant looked down at the great map in the well below with the green and red lights flashing. It was just after ten and he sighed. ‘Anyway, don’t start counting your chickens. The boozers aren’t out yet. We might see some fun then.’

He went into the corridor and met Brady on his way up from the basement where the teleprinter was housed. ‘Anything from C.R.O.?’

‘They confirm he was released yesterday morning. That’s all.’

‘What about Miller?’

‘No sign of him yet.’

They moved into the main C.I.D. office and Grant snorted. ‘Taking his bloody time, I must say. You’d better get all the relevant stuff out of the file ready for him then, Jack. We’ve wasted enough time already.’

‘I’ll be in Records if you want me,’ Brady said and moved out.

Grant paused to light a cigarette and went into his office. Nick was standing by the window looking out into the night. He turned quickly and smiled.

‘Good evening, sir.’

Grant took in the highly polished Chelsea boots, the hand-stitched raincoat, the white collar and last of all, the continental raincap.

He took a deep breath. ‘What in the hell is that thing on your head?’