‘Do you have any idea how difficult it will be to get my blood out from the gaps between these floorboards? Forensics will have a field day.’ I snapped my brain back into the awful reality, and looked up at Asquith. ‘Several people know where I am. If you shoot me, I promise that you will be arrested within hours and you will spend the rest of your life behind bars. Is that what you want?’

The gun still didn’t waver one millimetre.

‘And is that what you want young Henry Payne to live with as he grows up? That his beloved grandfather, after whom he was named, turned out to be a cold-blooded murderer? Do you think he’ll ever come to see you in prison?’

He didn’t react, and I was beginning to fear that I wasn’t getting through to him at all. All I could see in his eyes was his absolute conviction that getting rid of me would also rid him of all his problems, rather than simply creating many more new ones, and whatever I said wasn’t going to make any difference.

On my immediate right was a stack of four large cardboard boxes, each about eighteen inches high, with MARYLEBONE CERAMICS, FRAGILE CONTENTS printed large on the sides. Slowly I slid my transplanted left hand between the stack and the wall.

Just as I could tell that Asquith’s mental cogs were all lining up to produce a conclusive thumbs-down for my future existence, I pulled the whole stack of boxes forward towards him and Valance, and to hell with the fragile contents. At the same time I ducked down low and dived for the door.

The gun indeed worked, and it was definitely loaded.

Asquith fired it, and the noise of such a large-calibre weapon being discharged within the confined space of the building was incredible. Not that I cared much about that. I was just grateful that the bullet had missed me, and I wasn’t hanging around to give him another shot.

I flung the door open and went through it like the proverbial bat out of hell, running hard for some cover in among the dark castle ruins.

God knows what Chico made of it all, but wherever he was, I hoped he was keeping his head down. He must have heard the gun go off and perhaps, with luck, he had already called in reinforcements in the form of the North Yorks Police armed-response unit. I just hoped they might get here before the return of ‘the boys’.

I ran down the north side of the central keep and into the deep shadows beyond before stopping to catch my breath and listen out for any pursuers.

The daylight was now fading fast, and the only sounds I could hear were the multiple sharp ‘kya’ calls of the jackdaws, eerily echoing as they flew back to roost high up on the castle walls.