‘Doesn’t have to be that way, of course.’ The gangster, looking like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. ‘No harm done yet, really. I just wanted to talk to you. And it was pretty obvious you wouldn’t have responded all that well to an invitation. Would you?’

‘No.’ Mark was starting to feel just a little emboldened by the other man’s matter-of-fact attitude. ‘So this was just a slightly more assertive way of saying you wanted a word?’

‘You got it.’

‘I see. So what was it you wanted to discuss?’

Joe gave him the “oh please” face.

‘I think you know exactly what I want. But if you’re going to make me spell it out, then so be it. What I want from you, Mark… all I want from you… is a name.’

Mark kept his mouth shut. Knowing only too well whose name it was that Joe wanted.

‘Just one name. It’ll take you no time at all to tell me. I know that you worked on that piece about Number 37. You need to have a word with your bosses about IT security, I reckon.’

Implying that there’d be an opportunity to chastise the Clarion’s IT team. Which raised Mark’s hopes, just a tiny bit.

‘Fair enough.’

Joe raised an eyebrow. ‘What, you’re going to tell me what I want to know just like that?’

Mark shrugged. ‘If I don’t tell you then you’re going to torture me. Aren’t you? I mean, this place isn’t subtle. And I’ve got eyes.’ He gestured to the welding gear neatly racked behind the gang leader. With a circular saw beside it, along with a selection of hammers and other handy tools. ‘No, I’m not up for screaming out my last breaths while that big bastard behind me carves lumps off me with a gas torch. I’ll tell you what you want to know.’

Joe raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised. ‘Bugger me, Lewis, perhaps you were right after all? And there was me thinking we’d have to encourage Mark here quite vigorously. Perhaps the persuasion won’t be necessary after all.’

He returned his attention to Mark. Whose fear had only been ramped up by being discussed in the third person.

‘Go on then, let’s have a try. Who was it that took the photos and wrote the article? The one about my sex workers being liberated.’

Keeping his face straight, Mark looked him in the eye. ‘Anthea Hall. She’s a colleague of mine.’

Knowing that he might be condemning his editor to an unpleasant fate. But saving Tamara. Seeming like a fair enough trade.

‘Anthea Hall. Let’s see who that is. You stay here, and I’ll go for a chat with my hacker.’