He dismissed his own doubts. Five would be the number.

‘Should I send her up, Mr Dempsey?’ Garcia had asked.

‘No. Tell her to wait where she is. I’ll be right down.’

Dempsey found the whole approach confusing.

Why are they announcing themselves, he wondered. They must know enough to realise it would put me on the defensive?

Then again, how else would they flush me out of a secure apartment block? There’s no way anyone is getting to the elevators without Freddie spotting them, and so no way they can get to me without me being ready for them. They must realise that.

So why not just wait? I have to leave sometime?

The reason came to him from nowhere. The only logical answer.

Because they can’t wait. They need this done quickly.

There was no point wasting time trying to guess at the reason for their urgency. An investigator makes deductions, based upon evidence, logic and reason. Once they are exhausted, everything else is a shot in the dark. And Dempsey’s previous life had taught him the value of those.

Instead he used the time productively. He stripped off the white shirt he was wearing beneath his suit jacket and biker’s leathers, exposing his upper body. Next he opened the closet and pulled out the heavy metallic case that sat at the bottom.

Dempsey carried the case into his living area, placed it on the metal and glass table that stood against the side wall and opened it with a four-digit code.

Inside was an arsenal. Enough weaponry for a small war.

Six pistols; three more Glock 19s, three Glock 26s and enough fifteen-round and ten-round 9mm clips to fill each ten times over. Four Heckler & Koch G36C close-quarters assault rifles, plus what looked like ammunition for a small regiment. And two solid steel pilot survival knives, each with a concealed forearm sheath.

Dempsey took the sheaths first, strapping one to each arm. The Velcro strap circled his forearm a few inches below the elbow, with the metal sheaths running towards his wrists. Satisfied, he carefully placed a razor-sharp knife in each.

Next he grabbed another white shirt. Short-sleeved this time to avoid the risk of the knives being slowed by a cufflink or bunched material.

Hanging next to the shirt was Dempsey’s two-pistol holster, and so that came next. He selected an extra Glock 19 from the case. Adding a ten-round magazine, he chambered a round and placed the Glock into the left side. A quick check of the pistol he had been carrying all day and the right side was filled too.

Dempsey checked his watch. Two minutes since the call. He had to hurry.

Looking back into the case, he removed a single Glock 26 and slipped it into the holster that was already in place near his right ankle, under his loose bottomed suit trousers. Finally he picked up four spare clips, secured them under his belt at the back of his pants, threw on his jacket, placed a leather envelope in its right-hand front pocket and headed to the elevator.