The Editor pointed at the screen. ‘And is there no more sinister picture of this Kayani? He looks like he’s at a fucking barbecue.’

Counting them off on her fingers, Anna said, ‘We’ve been through all his Facebook pictures, all his friends’ Facebooks, the police, the DVLA, the passport office, his old school. That’s the best there is.’

‘Fine.’ The Editor waved her away. ‘Make the kicker “CHILLING SMILE”.’

Anna rushed back to her seat, shouting to the Art desk, ‘Jack you’re getting two rag-outs for the four–five spread. One minute.’

The lawyer twitched forward in attempted self-erasement. If the Editor dismissed his concerns, then it would be on the Editor’s head; as long as he hadn’t had them explained, it was on his own. He rasped his dry throat. But the Editor told Jeremy, ‘Show me the other spread.’

Beside them, Geraldine was rapidly conferring with Max about how to refer to the terrorists’ ‘probable’ or ‘predicted’ escape routes without either saying anything as weak as ‘possible’ or over-selling them in a way that would embarrass the paper if someone spotted they’d come from Google Maps.

Jeremy pulled the slider across to show the second spread. The Editor looked for a moment, muttered ‘What feckless cunt…’ and leapt upright. Geraldine flinched sideways as the Editor’s voice boomed: ‘Art desk! Get someone over here! Six–seven needs a redraw. And bring me some paper.’

He turned on Geraldine from his splendid height. ‘Who the fuck drew these pages?’

Geraldine, still annoyed about being told to bring a chair, blithely said, ‘The back bench, I suppose.’

‘I AM the back bench.’ Then, looking up: ‘Where’s that artist? Jack!’

Jack arrived at a run with a slim sheaf of A3 drawing sheets and a selection of pencils.

‘Good God, man, I’m not planning to draw the whole book. That’s your job.’ Max, who’d just changed ‘Terror brother’s chilling rant’ to ‘sinister rant’, so it wouldn’t double the editor’s caption kicker, checked the clock. The long black pointer was aiming almost vertically down. Eighteen minutes to go and a spread was being redrawn. He spoke below the Editor: ‘Rosie, you keep on proofing our pages. If you spot anything, tell me right away. Will, you stop reading the other pages and read everything on the two splash spreads. Read four–five now and six–seven as soon as it’s taken shape. There are eight different people subbing these stories. Check everything matches up.’