He replied and then told Harriet, ‘He asks me if we should kill you now, or wait until our leader, General Kungu Kabaya, arrives. I told him we must wait – but you know . . .’ He stroked the hot tip of the Sten gun’s barrel along the underside of Harriet’s chin, making her wince. ‘I am not sure I will wait. I want to kill you, and them –’ he nodded towards the children – ‘very much.’

Just then Mwangi heard footsteps racing down the passage.

‘Who is it?’ he asked.

Roosevelt turned towards the open doorway. Before he could say a word, a single shoot rang out and he staggered backwards, hit the wine racks and fell dead to the floor.

Mwangi reacted in an instant. He grabbed Harriet and put a gun to her head.

Zander grabbed Kika and pulled her to the ground.

Gerhard walked into the room with his rifle to his shoulder, ready to fire.

He saw Harriet, and Mwangi behind her with his left arm around her throat and the right hand pressing a Sten gun up against her temple.

Harriet was shielding most of Mwangi’s body. All Gerhard could see was his gun arm and the small sliver of his face that was not hidden behind Harriet’s head.

Zander and Kika were sitting on the floor beside them.

He was about to tell the children to stay put when they saw him and dashed across to him with cries of ‘Daddy!’

Gerhard noticed Mwangi’s mouth widen in a grin. The barrel of his gun swung down. He was going to shoot the children.

Gerhard had a fraction of a second in which to aim and a tiny target to hit.

If he waited too long, the children would die.

If he missed, Harriet would die.

Gerhard shot. He blew the smile right off Mwangi’s face.

As Zander and Kika grabbed hold of him, shrieking, and Harriet stepped aside, overwhelmed by all that had happened, Gerhard muttered something under his breath.

‘What did you say?’ Harriet asked.

He gave a harsh, cruel smile, an expression from another time as he said, ‘It was German. I was telling him, “I shot down a hundred fighter planes, you dumb swine. Of course I was going to kill you.”’

He picked up Zander and hugged him tight, while Harriet grabbed the revolver Roosevelt had taken from her and the evening bag of ammunition, hooking the trigger of the gun and the handle of the bag around her middle finger. She took Kika in her arms.

As they went upstairs to the hall, Gerhard turned and told Harriet, ‘Shield her eyes.’

He held his son’s head against his chest so that the little boy would not see the makeshift barrier; the men in their black dinner jackets and starched white shirts, now stained with the blood, sweat and grime of battle; the two women in their ruined evening gowns; and beyond them the line of Mau Mau, watching and waiting for the order to attack.