Then Alberto suddenly went as stiff as a board and dropped to the floor like a ton of bricks. Two wires led from Alberto’s shoulder blades to the taser in the hand of Jack’s driver who, thankfully, was no longer stuck on Battersea Bridge.

*

Jack had assumed that Ridley was ensconced at Heathrow Airport, ready to arrest Alberto if he decided to follow his sister’s escape route. In fact, within seven minutes of the ‘all units’, ‘two ambulance’ and ‘coroner’ call going out, Ridley was racing up the emporium stairs towards De Voe’s office.

When he reached the top, Jack was seated on the floor in the corridor holding wads of gauze to the stab wound in his forearm. Beyond him, in the office, De Voe’s body still lay centre stage, his eyes open and one hand still clutched at his throat. ‘Alberto killed him.’ Jack thought he’d clarify that detail straight away, in case Ridley thought that Jack had done it. Jack was white as a sheet, looking as if he might join De Voe at any moment, but he continued with his staccato handover. ‘He’s gone to the hospital. I stabbed him. He stabbed me. I’m fine.’

‘You don’t look bloody fine,’ Ridley growled. ‘Why the hell aren’t you on the way to hospital, too?’

Jack grimaced. ‘You’ll have questions. I thought you . . . I think I . . .’ He suddenly went from white to green. ‘. . . I might be sick.’ Ridley helped Jack to his feet, and, before Ridley could stop him, he stumbled through the office door. ‘There’s a bathroom, where I can . . .’

From the en suite, Jack could hear Ridley shouting to him: ‘I’ll drive you to the hospital. You get checked out and I’ll formally arrest Alberto. I’ll be downstairs.’

Jack leant heavily on the rim of the basin watching the swirling water from the running tap take the contents of his stomach down into the drain. He felt so lightheaded he thought he was going to pass out. He lowered himself onto his haunches, still hanging onto the rim of the basin to stop himself from sliding all the way to the floor. He could feel something in his front trouser pocket pressing into him. Jack knelt on the floor, put his hand into his pocket and pulled out the diamond bracelet. Glancing round, Jack could see a dark shadow inside the shower cubicle. He opened the door and there, tucked into the corner, was the small black rucksack.

*

The conversation on the way to the hospital was one-sided, with Ridley filling Jack in on everything that had happened while he was chasing down Alberto Barro.

‘You were right about all of the burglaries being decoys. The real target was a house belonging to an Emil Borreson and his wife. He’s a bitcoin dealer. A very successful one.’