To Kirk’s experienced eye, that hint was more than enough. But for the voyeurs who would be watching for kicks? Probably not. And so for them, there was the Fox News commentary to provide context.

It was a man’s voice, speaking over the live, ongoing footage that was playing out on screen.

‘It’s still unclear exactly what happened here, but in scenes unheard of in the surroundings of Manhattan’s wealthy Upper East Side, reports suggest that a short gun battle took place in and around this prestigious residential apartment building. And that the terrible scenes being played out now are the result.

‘At this time there is no information about the identity of the victims. Nor is there anything we can tell you about the gunman or gunmen who took their lives. We are awaiting an update from the New York Police Department but for now the incident seems to be over.’

Kirk silenced the volume but kept the screen on. She slowly rose from her seat and moved closer to the images. For a clearer view of the area outside of the building, and of the covered humps dotted around it.

Three, she counted. Three bodies.

Please don’t be one of them.

It had been Kirk’s first thought as the news report broke. Dempsey’s own words, returning to her the moment she recognised The Stratford.

‘They’re cleaning house’, Dempsey had said to her. And he had been right. Starting, as it turned out, with him.

He would have expected it, Kirk knew. But had that been enough? Had he managed to escape? To fight his way through? Or was he still at The Stratford, growing cold under one of those white sheets she could see on the screen?

There was no way for her to know. The three bodies could be anyone. And Dempsey was definitely capable of taking on three killers and walking away. That much Kirk was sure of.

But if he did, she thought, then where the hell is he?

The uncertainty clouded Kirk’s thinking. Her concern was for Dempsey. She liked the man. She even considered him a friend. But Kirk was not employed for her humanity. She was the director of the ISB because she was the best at what she did. Because she was the consummate professional.

And she forced that professionalism to take over as she stared at the screen. It caused her focus to shift, allowing her to see what the attack on Dempsey really meant.

It was confirmation that they were right. Quilty’s death might have been enough, but now – after this – there could be no doubt. What other reason could there be to try to murder one of her agents? To murder this agent?

The realisation hit hard, and Kirk responded in the only way she knew. She steeled herself and she prepared to fight back.

Dempsey was either alive or he was dead. She had no control over that now. If he was alive then all the better; he was her best agent and an invaluable asset in what might follow.