She fell silent, fixing her gaze on Mickey. Who, having been beasted by the best, fixed his gaze on the wall behind her. Knowing never to volunteer an answer to a question still to be asked.

‘Nothing to say, Sergeant?’

‘No, ma’am.’

‘No explanation as to why it should be that Sir Patrick no longer wants you protecting him? And no connection with the car bomb that was reported at about the same time you were heading for the airport?’

‘I am unable to comment, ma’am.’

If it were possible, the assistant commissioner seemed to be reaching a new level of fury. Her face white with anger. Knuckles white too, placed on the desk before her.

‘Sergeant Bale, you will now explain the circumstances of the events in Belize that have resulted in this stain on the department’s reputation. In full. Omitting no detail. Do you understand me?’

‘Yes, ma’am. I understand your order.’

A short pause. Long enough for it to become clear that Mickey wasn’t going to start talking.

‘Well then?’

This was it. No way to avoid it.

‘My apologies, ma’am. I am forbidden to answer that question under the terms of the Official Secrets Act of 1989.’

All three officers stared at him, momentarily dumbstruck. Jasmine being the first to the counterpunch.

‘Is this some sort of piss-take, Sergeant? Because if it is—’

‘No, ma’am. No humour is intended.’

‘You’d better start talking, Bale.’ Mickey noted the abandonment of even vestigial politeness. ‘Right now. Because if you don’t, there will be a very prompt disciplinary board convened. Which will end your fucking Protection Command career with immediate effect. And send you back into front-line policing.’

Mickey looked up at the ceiling. Reflecting that it didn’t get much more front line than the events of the previous twenty-four hours.

‘And, with respect, ma’am, if I do, I will render myself liable to prosecution and incarceration. As will you, for forcing me to disclose an official secret. Under the terms of the act. Ma’am.’

Stand-off. Three very unhappy members of management stared back at him. One incandescent with rage. One dumbstruck, and probably wondering about the impact on his career. And Philip Green, just flat-out amazed. About time for a federation rep, perhaps? Mickey suspected it was.

But as he drew breath to make the request, AC Chen’s phone rang. She looked at the caller display, thumb hovering over the red button. Saw who was calling and selected green instead.

‘Good morning, ma’am.’

Oh really? There was only one ma’am in the chain of command above AC Chen. If, of course, the Queen was discounted. This was about to get interesting. She listened to her phone for a moment. Then replied, her voice emollient by comparison with the moment before.

‘Yes, ma’am, I have him in front of me now.’