His breaths came thick and fast. Eleven steps had sapped his energy.

Eleven fucking steps.

The thought angered him. How had it come to this? How could he end this way, broken and alone? Only the thought of Longman’s fate held off a bout of despair.

It took over a minute for Blunt to recover enough energy to continue. Hopefully enough to see him through the four more steps to the washroom on the other side of the closed door.

It would have to be. His bladder would not wait.

He gripped the handle tight and pulled hard to open the door.

The sight that greeted him put everything else out of his mind.

‘Right.’ Blunt spoke almost to himself as he faced the palest eyes he had ever seen. Eyes from his distant past. Their appearance was almost a relief.

He began to smile as he uttered his final words.

‘Well, that makes sense.’

SIXTEEN

Levy glanced at her watch as she finished setting the table for breakfast.

Still on time, just about.

‘Richard, it’s on the table,’ she called out, raising her voice just slightly. The house was not big. Just two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. It did not take a bellow to be heard.

The sound of fast footsteps on the staircase was immediate and moments later her ten-year-old son Richard burst into the kitchen. He took a seat at the small dining table and tackled his breakfast enthusiastically.

They ate in silence. Levy had raised Richard to be well-mannered, which included not speaking with a mouthful of food. She had also taught him the importance of eating when he had the chance; that he would never know for sure when the next meal would come. It was a lesson Levy had learned in the Israeli military. Breakfast – like every other meal – was, first and foremost, functional.

‘You were late last night, Mum,’ Richard said when he had finally finished his food. ‘I woke up when you got home.’

‘I know I was, Richard. I’m sorry.’

It was not unusual for Levy to keep unpredictable hours and to miss her son’s bedtime. The frequency did not improve her feelings of guilt.

‘Yesterday was a very long day.’

‘What happened?’

‘You really don’t want to know, Richard.’

Levy was used to her son’s questions. He was an intelligent boy, well educated and mature. She would sometimes tell him about her cases – just the broad strokes and heavily edited – but this would not be one of those times.

‘It was a nasty business.’

Richard nodded his head. Young as he was, Richard knew when his mother did not want to answer, and he understood enough about her job not to press her.

‘Will you be late again tonight, Mum?’

‘I hope not.’ Levy was not about to make a promise she could not keep. She had made that mistake before. ‘I don’t think so, I mean. But you never know after yesterday. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Claire is around to look after you if I get stuck.’