Toni moved the blade slowly across to the front of Bailey’s throat, the roughly filed edge of the knife scraping at her skin.

‘And this is your trachea,’ said Toni. ‘Also known as your windpipe. If I was to slice through this, you’d suffocate to death. You’d be flopping around like a fish out of water, possibly for up to three and a half minutes.’

Bailey modulated her breathing, trying to remain calm, trying not to panic, trying not to think about what it felt like to have your throat cut.

Had Toni found out that she was a cop? Was this the reason she had been summoned here? Would Toni try and force her to admit what she really was? Would she lose her nerve and break cover? If she did, that would seal her fate as surely as anything.

Never. Break. Cover.

Without letting it lose contact with her skin, Toni moved the blade up the side of Bailey’s face until the point of it rested at the base of her right eyeball.

‘Or I could push this shank right through your eye and into your brain. First, your eyeball would puncture and all the liquid inside, which is called the vitreous, would ooze out all down your face. And, of course, your eye wouldn’t work any more. But that would be the least of your problems because then the knife would go into the frontal lobe of your brain, and I don’t even want to get started on what that would do to you, especially if I twisted it around a bit.’

All Bailey could see out of the corner of her eye was Toni’s shark-like leer, and that gold tooth gleaming evilly in her upper jaw.

Gripping her hair even tighter, so tight that it hurt, Toni trailed the knife up the side of Bailey’s face, pointedly tracing the tip of the blade along the line of the scar on her cheek, moving up onto her forehead until the cold sharp edge of the shank was sitting laterally across her hairline, poised to slice into her scalp.

Bailey flicked her eyes down and around to try to get an impression of their physical juxtaposition. She thought back frantically to her jiu-jitsu classes, attempting to mentally choreograph the most appropriate move to get her out of this bind. It would have to be kote gaeshi – outside wrist twist – accompanied by an elbow strike to the chin, followed by some kind of armlock, like ude gatame.

Adrenaline fired through her. She was just about to spring into action when Toni abruptly took the shank away and let go of her hair. She winked at Bailey and patted her amiably on the shoulder.

Although her heart was thumping furiously, Bailey fought hard to appear as unruffled as possible.

Toni nodded and smiled in approval. ‘You’re good. I like you. You’re a pretty cool customer. Pretty cool… for an accountant.’ She squinted at her, the smile suddenly dropping off her face again. ‘That’s what you were, right?’