‘Who are you?’ O’Grady said, yanking loose his paper bib and scrunching it.

‘Oh … didn’t I say?’

‘Well, whoever you are, as common courtesy seems to be something that eludes you, I suggest you take a walk back down the stairs, closing the door behind you as you go, and come back at a more suitable time. Like never.’

The newcomer responded by closing the office door, pulling up a chair and sitting down at the desk. When his gaze met O’Grady’s, it was long, hard and seemingly amused.

‘Is this some kind of joke?’ O’Grady growled. ‘I mean, do you know who I am?’

‘I know who you were. Detective Chief Inspector O’Grady of the Greater Manchester Police’s Fraud Investigation Team. You had a glittering career until you very mysteriously failed to shred a batch of highly sensitive intelligence reports relating to various organised crime enquiries, and then, or so the scandal-mongers outrageously claimed, offered them to the highest bidder. Hardly a smart career move, Miles. Saw you drummed out of the job minus one very fat pension. But it’s a good thing they couldn’t actually prove anything, eh? That would’ve been a lot worse. Still … the word is you’ve done all right for yourself since.’

O’Grady turned slowly scarlet. ‘Who the fuck are you?’

‘Well …’ The newcomer feigned uncertainty about how much he should reveal. ‘I’ve not got as illustrious a background as you. But I do have a similar talent for turning over big sums annually.’

‘Do you indeed?’ O’Grady leaped to his feet, pulled out his iPhone and banged it on the desk. ‘You know that all I have to do is make a single phone-call.’

‘You’ve got quite a thin face, haven’t you?’ the newcomer noted. ‘Ordinarily it looks okay, but when you get angry … kind of makes you look peevish. Not impressive.’

‘I call that number, and someone’ll be in here in less than three minutes with a fucking baseball bat! … You little shit!’

The newcomer chuckled. ‘Who? That fat bastard with the beard?’

The redness in O’Grady’s cheeks lessened. His mouth twitched as he struggled not to register surprise and concern that his unwanted guest was so well informed.

‘Look, Miles –’ the newcomer wafted the air, indicating that he should sit again ‘– I’ve no doubt you can do as you say. But it won’t gain you much. I mean, you can bash my skull in. But all that’ll mean is someone else has to come. And then your bill will be even bigger.’

‘What fucking bill?’