Mickey stood up, crossing the room in half a dozen swift strides. ‘Lights, Wade!’

The security lights blazed into life just as he swung the glass door open, raising the pistol in an unmistakable threat.

‘Armed police! Stand still! Keep your hands where I can see them!’

The figure stood, making the urge to put a warning round into the turf almost overwhelming. But Mickey knew the way that would play in the papers. Not well, especially in the context of the principal’s current news profile.

‘Get down on your front!’

He kept advancing, within twenty yards of the intruder. The price she was paying for the initial hesitation, more proof of amateur status. Close enough to see her fine-boned features. Close enough to double tap a man-sized target and have a reasonable expectation of hitting with both rounds. She raised her hands, allowing the camera to hang on its strap. Mickey slowed his pace. Keeping the weapon raised, finger on the trigger.

‘There’s no safety catch on this pistol. It’s a design feature, apparently.’ Walking towards her slowly now, pointing the weapon to one side. ‘Which is why I’m not pointing it straight at you. Because I don’t want to put a round through a freelance snapper. Even one unwise enough to get this close to the house. The man behind me…’ he could tell that Cavendish was at his shoulder from the sound of his breathing ‘…is an army officer, and probably even fitter than I am. So running would be a bit silly, even if I didn’t decide to shoot you. Wouldn’t it?’

And shut up, waiting for her to respond.

‘Yes.’

A strong voice, even if she was probably shitting herself.

‘Exactly. So, slowly, no sudden movements, put the camera down. Lie down on the ground, face down. I’ll put the gun away and pop on some cuffs. Then we can all go inside for a cup of tea, while we wait for the local Plod to come and get you. Right?’

Back in the Prot office, Tamara, as she turned out to be called, proved to be a resilient young woman.

‘You’re right. My mistake was getting too close. That and not staying in cover when the lights went out.’ She looked at Mickey appraisingly. ‘I could make you and your oppo famous. All you’d have to do is—’

‘Take off the cuffs and give you the camera? You’d make us famous ex-Protection Officers, is what you’d make us.’

‘Fair enough. So how big a book will “the local Plod” throw at me?’

Mickey affected to think for a moment. ‘Trespass, for starters. Plus you were on land that belongs to a government minister. Which probably puts you in breach of more than one Act of Parliament you’ve never heard of. They can hold you for a while, if they choose to.’

‘And? There is an “and”, isn’t there?’