At precisely ten o’clock, Hembury stood outside the electric gates and pressed the buzzer on the videophone entrance panel. Franklin glanced across at the screen that was fixed to the office wall and gasped in horror as if he’d been struck by a lightning bolt. Staring back at him in black and white was a ghost. Filling the frame was the unmistakable face of the police lieutenant, who he thought was dead. John knew his father well enough to realise something was drastically wrong. Richard Franklin took a few moments to compose himself and then pushed the gate release button.

“That bastard Hembury is somehow alive. The hitman obviously just took the money but never carried out the job.”

John was out of his chair and standing next to the screen, glaring at the image. “How much do we think he knows?”

“John, we are about to find out. Let me do the talking. Don’t forget, your running mate is the governor of California, so we have the power to shut him down. Trust me, we will crush him.”

Franklin left the office and strode through the grand entrance hall towards the imposing front door. He stared at the handle but paused before reaching for it, sensing the physical presence on the other side. He took a deep breath in an attempt to quell the twinge of fear and misgiving that had suddenly overtaken him. Finally, he turned the handle.

The door opened and the two adversaries faced each other for the first time since Hembury had visited Franklin’s office.

“Lieutenant. Incredibly punctual. I like that. Please come in, my son is waiting for you in my office.”

Hembury had seen the poker face before but this time he could sense a slight discomfort bubbling beneath the veneer of self-assurance that Franklin was so good at portraying. “Good to see you again, Mr Franklin. Something came up at the last minute that almost prevented me making it but, happily, I was able to take care of it.”

The coded reply wasn’t lost on Franklin, who realised his hitman had botched the job. He turned and gestured to Hembury to follow and the two men walked down the hallway into the huge study, where John Franklin was waiting. Hembury had seen him on television countless times and the first thing that struck him was how much smaller he was in real life than he appeared on screen. His trademark smile beamed as he walked forward and warmly shook hands with the lieutenant. Hembury wondered how many thousands of fake handshakes he had given during the campaign. Richard Franklin eased into the seat behind his desk while his son moved into position, standing next to him, creating a united front. Hembury knew the moment had come to bite the bullet and he opened with the script he had rehearsed with Vargas.