Geraldine said, ‘We’ve got half of Newsdesk out there with the cops but they haven’t really turned anything up yet, I’m afraid. We’ve got a lead on this notorious Muslim who works in the pub, and we’ve raided a Costcutter, but it’s all been made more difficult; apparently, the subs started some kind of fracas at lunchtime and made sworn enemies of the locals.’

The Editor stared hard at the chief, who pretended not to have heard. While Anna listened to what was going on she, to her own surprise, silently prayed – actually prayed – that the bus would not get here, please, that the terrorists outside would not get in, that she would get back to London, that she would not die here.

The Editor said, ‘And I take it those incompetents at the Met haven’t found a fucking thing either?’

‘They haven’t. But maybe that’s the story: police bunglers fail to find anything on biggest-ever operation. Public money wasted by—’

‘Shut the fuck up for just a moment, could you, Geraldine, while I try to think of something to print that won’t be complete shit.’ Geraldine was entirely un-deflated but stopped talking. The Editor glanced at the relentless clock. It was all coming apart in his hands: the Daily Beast – first in the world, in print. It was all coming to nothing.

‘And the one who was shot. What are we getting from the interrogation?’

‘Any other day it would have made a great splash. Today, I wouldn’t really think so. He’s held out on the Burqa Bombings – tougher than they expected, it sounds like – but he’s given up all kinds of colour about Syria, terrorism, being in the radicalized crowd. We could do it as a Dramatic Scene – dying jihadi interrogated in hospital bed, blood seeping through bandages, weak coughs, race against time to extract what he knows while outside the chilling terror plot ticks towards its terrible conclusion.’

‘Anything about their connections to other terrorists?’

‘He’s given up a whole address book, but they’re all in Syria and could just be a list of minicab firms for all anyone knows. Also, the Beeb have got at least some of all this, too, I’m afraid, Charles. They’re broadcasting stuff that could only have come from him. They’re probably just arguing with their lawyers before they start trowelling it on to every channel they’ve got.’

‘So the whole of tomorrow’s dramatic race-against-time interrogation story is going to be on the News at Ten tonight?’

‘I very much doubt it. Looking at their stuff, I think they’ve got access to a cop, but they haven’t seen the transcript. So they’ll have to do “unconfirmed reports” and “speculation” and probably no quotes. So we’re beating them there.’

‘But they’ll have all the news lines?’

‘Yes, I suppose they will but—’