He needed to shower. And he was halfway there when he heard her voice.

‘How’s the head this morning?’

The mere sound of her soft American accent improved Michael’s mood. He felt a smile spread across his face as he turned towards the bedroom door. It only grew wider as he saw her standing there.

‘Would you believe me if I said it had been better?’ Michael replied. He noticed his own accent as he spoke. A sure sign of a hangover.

‘I wouldn’t believe anything else.’ Sarah laughed. ‘You were . . . not your best self last night. Is everything OK?’

Michael paused a moment before he answered. He was trying to recall what he might have said while drunk. Anything that could have led to Sarah’s comment.

He remembered nothing.

‘Everything’s fine,’ he lied. ‘I just had a few too many, that’s all.’

‘And the Johnny Cash?’

‘Ah, come on now, I had the house to myself. I deserved to have a bit of Johnny.’

Michael made his way towards Sarah. Only a few steps, but painful ones thanks to his thumping head.

He gave no hint of the discomfort and took Sarah by the waist, pulling her close.

‘And you? How are you feeling this morning?’

‘A lot better than the last few days,’ Sarah replied. ‘Otherwise your Lagavulin breath would be sending me straight to that bathroom.’

‘Well, you look good.’

Sarah gave him what looked like a nervous smile, but she said nothing. For an instant it seemed strange to Michael’s foggy mind. A moment later and that thought was gone.

The realisation that Sarah was fully dressed and ready to leave finally sank in.

‘You off already?’ he asked.

‘Yes, in a minute. Just wanted to deliver your message before I left,’ Sarah replied.

‘What message?’

‘I had a call from Will Duffy this morning.’

‘Will called you?’

‘Actually he called you, but your phone was off. Apparently you didn’t charge it last night. It’s still downstairs. I plugged it in for you.’

‘Thanks. What did Will want?’

‘It was about Nizar Mansour. He was attacked in prison last night.’

‘Attacked?’ Michael was shocked. ‘Is he OK?

‘He’s OK. But he won’t be at court today. That’s all Will told me. Well, he also said that I should get myself to New Scotland Yard to break the story while it’s still an exclusive. But that part was for me, not for you.’

Michael nodded his head, now understanding.

‘Hence the early start.’

‘It’s not that early, Boozehound.’

‘What time is it?’

‘Eight a.m.’

‘What?’ Michael stepped back, his heart suddenly racing. ‘I’m on in Woolwich at nine forty-five!’

‘But Mansour won’t be there?’

‘That doesn’t matter. I still need to be there. To explain what’s happened to the judge, and to fix the next date when Mansour can attend.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise that. I thought you wouldn’t have to go, so I let you sleep in.’

‘Don’t say sorry. It’s not your fault.’ Michael looked around the room. His head was now clear. Panic was the great hangover cure. ‘But I need to rush.’