Raz led them through the crowds, to a shiny black Land Cruiser. In the stale heat outside the airport, the traffic was chaos. There were no road markings, cars flooding along haphazardly. The green tuk-tuks slipped through impossible gaps, forcing their way past with shouts and squawks. The hooting was relentless: a toot on the horn instead of indicating, always. Everyone kept out of the way of the brightly painted buses – so battered already, the victors of a thousand clashes – as they thundered along.

Many of the buildings along the airport road were unfinished, the steel rebar springing into the sky like a metal fountain. The main road into the city was lined with shacks, smoke lingering in the air.

Raz sat in the front seat, beside the old driver.

‘I will take you to the hotel.’ He smiled back at them. ‘You must be exhausted after your long flight.’

‘Thank you.’ Ed nodded his head once, as Dominic might. ‘It’s a bugger of a journey.’

‘You are early,’ Raz said. ‘I thought you were coming in a few more days.’

They had only called him from Qatar, unstoppably late, hoping that the confusion would tilt the balance their way, very slightly.

‘We couldn’t wait any longer.’ Casey put a giggle in her voice. ‘I am sorry if it is inconvenient. But we just had to be in Bangladesh. We had to be near our daughter.’

‘It is no problem at all,’ said Raz. ‘I am just worried you will have nothing to do. Dhaka is not exactly designed for tourists.’

He laughed to himself, as if it were a private joke.

‘There are elections coming up,’ he went on. ‘That means demonstrations, curfews. You shouldn’t travel to some parts of the city at all, because it might be dangerous. Bangladesh is not always an easy country to operate in, as I am sure you know.’

‘Poppy,’ said Casey. ‘Where is she?’

The hint of desperation was so easy.

‘Everything is coming along just as it should,’ said Raz patiently. ‘But she is not here yet, of course. She will be born soon. You mustn’t worry yourself, Miss Emily.’

A person, made to measure. Not here, not yet. No.

‘I would like to meet her,’ said Casey. ‘The lady carrying our child.’

‘I am afraid that is not possible right now.’ Raz looked apologetic. ‘You must understand, the woman is very tired at the moment. These last days are hard.’

‘Of course,’ Ed interrupted Casey. ‘We understand completely.’

‘Is she in Dhaka?’ tried Casey. ‘Or somewhere nearby?’

Raz turned round, and gave her an easy smile.

‘The baby will be brought to Dhaka in a few days,’ he said. ‘It is all as we promised.’

The driver dodged round a tuk-tuk, which was trundling the wrong way down the motorway towards them, a Bangladeshi flag flying from its roof.

‘Have you ever met Dr Greystone?’ Casey asked lightly.