I don’t suppose he believed me – he’d know a dying man’ll say anything – but my words must have reminded him about the brightly lit room, the curtainless bay, and they saved my life. He swore and lifted himself off me. I heard him scrambling to his feet. Gasping and choking I rolled clear of the hole, knowing I had only seconds to clear my head. The big light went out and in the glow from the small one I saw him returning with bared teeth and a length of flex stretched taut between his fists. I tried to get up but my legs were useless and I fell back and lay, shielding my throat with my hands. He was bending over me, brandishing his garrotte, when the siren screamed.

* * *

He was yelling at his lads to stand and fight as the coppers dragged him out. I was so dazed I didn’t know what was happening. I staggered into the hallway. They’d smashed both doors to get to us. Gail was on the step, trying to get past two policemen. When she saw me she gasped, ‘Link – thank God!’ The coppers let me through and we flung our arms round each other.

I know exactly what you’re thinking. Here comes the happy ending, right? Hang on a minute.

‘Was it you?’ I asked. ‘Did you bring the law?’

She nodded. ‘I came looking for you but you weren’t around. I was just leaving when the light came on and the curtain fell and I could see you struggling with – him. I knew I couldn’t do anything alone so I ran to Albany Street.’

‘But – how’d you get ’em to – they wouldn’t believe us before. How’d you manage —

‘Link.’ She sort of stiffened in my arms. Started to pull away. ‘There’s something I have to tell you.’

She never told me, though. She didn’t have to. They’d finally got the crazy guy into the van. It pulled away with two cars following, and then this poncy-looking dude came through the gateway carrying a fancy camera and all the gear. He pranced up the path grinning like a baboon.

‘Louise, darling,’ he burbled. ‘You’re a genius.’

Gail had broken our clinch. I looked around for Louise darling, but there was only me and Gail and the two coppers, and neither of them looked like a Louise. Then it hit me. The guy was talking to Gail.

She’d a sheepish look about her, I’ll give her that. ‘Link,’ she murmured, ‘This is Gavin. Gavin – this is the boy I told you about.’ Gavin beamed and stuck out a paw. I ignored it and turned to Gail. ‘And you,’ I blurted. ‘Who are you?’

She flushed. ‘I’m sorry, Link. My name’s Louise Bain. I’m a journalist. I’ve been —’