‘I admire your guts and daring.’ He shrugged. ‘This kind of thing, good old blag … bit of a lost art these days, eh? And you’ve clearly done your homework. You must’ve done, to get past security. Thing is … I hate to tell you this, but it’s better you know beforehand rather than stumble into something you can’t handle … there’s no way there won’t be repercussions if you see this thing through. You understand what I’m saying? We’ve got some top men here tonight. They won’t take this lying down.’

This was a lie. As Wednesday Night Special guests went, this particular crowd were more toothless than usual. Okay, they were all connected, but none had form for calling in the heavies. Not that the blaggers needed to know this.

‘I admire your professionalism,’ Northwood continued. ‘I really do. But on this occasion, you’ve got to think “self-preservation” first.’

Lori whimpered behind the hand plastered over her mouth, as if she couldn’t believe that this was the best he was doing to protect her.

‘It’s all right, love.’ Northwood palmed the air placatingly. ‘They’re not here for you. You’ll get out of this unhurt, whatever happens. So … what’s it to be, fellas?’ He looked the taller one full in the eye and nodded at the closed door to the lounge. ‘We go in there, and you’re looking over your shoulders for the rest of your lives? Or you walk away right now … and I never need mention this to anyone else?’ He smiled, raised his eyebrows – as though he was helping them, as though he was the teacher and they were his errant but likeable pupils. ‘I won’t even charge you for the banister rail.’

When neither of the intruders replied, he tried again.

‘Look … I respect you. I’m serious. I’m almost envious. This was the way we all did it, one time … before we got old and creaky.’

He let that last phrase hang, arms outspread, not just smiling now but grinning.

‘You finished?’ the taller one asked.

‘I … what?’

With a clatter of steel on bone, a sub-machine gun barrel cracked against the back of Northwood’s skull, knocking him to his knees. A second such blow sent him to the carpet; the hallway a dizzying whirl of figures and shapes and wallpaper patterns. He lay groaning, for a brief time only vaguely aware that the shorter intruder had hurried off again, disappearing and reappearing as he checked all the other ground-floor rooms apart from the lounge.

‘Two things,’ a harsh voice whispered into his ear. ‘One … we know you’ve got people here who matter. That’s why we’re here. Trust me, it wouldn’t be worth the effort if there was only a pipsqueak ponce like you. Two … you open your yap one more time without being spoken to first, and it’s the fucking graveyard.’