He got to his feet and staggered across the room, steadied himself against the wall, turned and moved back to the bed. After a while, the cobwebs disappeared completely and everything clicked back into place.

His room at the hotel, the Irish girl with her cup of tea, he remembered that. And then Donner had arrived, which could only mean one thing. The copper who’d gone down the stairs at the club had snuffed it.

An interesting situation. He got to his feet again and checked the door. It was securely fastened, a mortice deadlock from the look of things, and there was no transom. He crossed to the window and drew back the curtains. The sash lifted easily and he looked out.

He was on the top floor and the gardens lay forty feet below in the darkness. The nearest window was a good ten feet away to the left and impossible to reach.

He closed the window, moved back to the bed to consider the situation and a key rattled in the lock. For a moment he hesitated, then quickly got back on the bed and closed his eyes.

The door opened and someone walked across. Garvald waited and as a hand gripped his shirt front to shake him gently, opened his eyes and looked into the startled face of Jango. The Cypriot managed one cry of alarm before Garvald’s right fist sank into his stomach. Jango keeled over, gasping for air, and Garvald got to his feet and moved out of the room quickly, closing the door behind him.

He descended a flight of stairs to the next landing and Donner’s voice drifted up from the hall below. ‘Jango! Jango, what’s going on!’

Garvald opened the nearest door, stepped into the darkness of the room beyond and waited. There was a step on the bare floorboards and Donner moved into view, the shotgun held at waist level. Garvald moved out into the corridor, the edge of his hand swinging down with numbing force against Donner’s right arm. Donner grunted and dropped the shotgun.

‘Watch it, Manton, Garvald’s on the loose!’ Donner called and threw himself at the big man, the fingers of his left hand hooking for the eyes.

From the hall below came a terrifying banshee howl as Squires released the Alsatian. Donner and Garvald swayed together for a moment and then the dog erupted into the corridor, skidding on its haunches.

With a tremendous heave, Garvald sent Donner staggering along the corridor towards the stairhead. He dropped to one knee, picked up the shotgun and thumbed back the hammer. The dog was already half-way along the corridor when he started to swing the barrel. It leapt forward and he fired, the blast catching it in mid-air.