There was only the glow from the night sky of the city and a greasy yellow moon. Tom took out his phone and used the light on that. He embarked on a shelf-by-shelf search of the books, a comprehensive library of American history and political biography. In one space there were a couple of photographs, a young Stutz in his Marine dress blues and in a combat desert jacket from the first Gulf War. He moved on to more books, all neatly stacked. He returned to the coffee-table. There were sounds coming from the bedroom, all Beth, working hard for her country.

The coffee-table had three large books on it: a glossy catalogue of weapons of the Civil War, an album of Residences of the United States Foreign Service and a thick, embossed tome of photographs of London. The last had something sticking out of it – the corner of a piece of paper. It was a compliments slip with the British coat of arms printed across the top: ‘From the Office of the Cabinet Secretary’. On it was a hand-written message.

A memento of your visit. With all good wishes, Alec.

Alec? Cabinet secretary? Stutz’s London connections ran deep. He lowered the book to put it back, then noticed a file that had been lying underneath.

It was similar to the one Beth had described: purple with a small castle-like logo in the top left-hand corner and beneath it the word FORTRESS. He flipped it open and came face to face with his own photograph.

It was a copy of his military record.

The bedroom door opened. He put the file back under the book and darted for the kitchen, which was nearer the lift.

But that couldn’t be his exit. He couldn’t risk the noise. And she had told him the only way to the emergency stairs was through the bedroom. Stutz crossed the landing to the lounge where Tom had just been. There was the small ‘snap’ of a box being shut, a lighter flicking on and off, and the smell of a cigar, then two feet coming towards the kitchen.

Tom stepped behind the door. Stutz was in a dressing-gown, the fat Cuban clenched in his teeth and an ashtray in his hand. He put down the ashtray, took a glass out of a cabinet and filled it with iced water from the refrigerator. Then he took a small tube for pills from his pocket – it was empty. He cursed, put down the water, placed the cigar in the ashtray and left the room. He would be back any second. Tom was trapped.