The name on the door says Dr Artaud. The Leader places his briefcase on the floor, slides the name plate out and swaps it with Dr Erickson. He enters the office, sits at his desk, opens the top drawer, fishes around for the brass Erickson name holder and exchanges it with the one on the desk. He takes out a fresh yellow legal pad and pen and places them on the desk, ready for his first client.

A young woman in her early forties pushes the buzzer outside, asks for Dr Erickson and 255 – Leader lets her in.

He doesn’t plant anything in her mind. He listens. He analyses. She needs help and he gives it to her.

Today he only has appointments as Erickson.

When he is done, he locks the files in the cupboards, places his book on the chair behind his desk and remembers to leave the door open.

Then he’s at Tower Bridge and he is Artaud again. He’s watching his work come to life. He’s looking at Detective Sergeant Pace. He’s listening to people hit the floor behind him.

And he’s thrust against the barrier.

But he is the last person of choice, now. And he chooses not to fear.

Next he’s in the car and the handcuffs are cutting into him but he is calm. He talks at the detective. He opens up. He doesn’t have to. He wants to. And it’s dark. And they’re out of London.

And he tells Pace that he doesn’t want to die.

The car comes to a stop.

‘Where are we, Mr Pace?’

Pace takes off his seatbelt and turns around to look at the Leader. ‘Here? This is Swinley Forest.’ He turns back, opens the door, gets out and walks around to the back of the car. In the boot is another set of handcuffs and some tape. He takes them out and shuts the boot.

It is so black outside that Pace can’t see the shadows closing in on him.

He opens the back door. ‘Out you get.’ He pulls at the top of the Leader’s arm to urge him into the night.

‘What’s going on?’ 255 – Leader has lost the air of arrogance and coolness he has exuded since unveiling himself on Tower Bridge.

‘I’m tired of your voice. Stay still.’ Detective Sergeant Pace bites off a strip of tape and pushes it down hard over the Leader’s mouth. There’s no way of avoiding the hair from his beard, which will have to be ripped out when the tape comes off.

With his hands still cuffed tightly behind his back, Leader is urged to walk forwards into the trees. He does not mumble beneath the tape. He doesn’t drop to the floor. He cooperates and obliges the detective’s commands.