Then, at last, something happened. They heard a vehicle pull up outside. A few minutes passed, then the roller door was raised. A black Transit van was parked in front of the shed. Night had fallen. The roof of the van was washed in a sickly amber light.

Three men, all wearing black boiler-suits and balaclavas, entered the shed, closing the door behind them. One of them, who appeared to be limping, stayed back. The other two walked towards Nick and Michaela. One was carrying a couple of pizza boxes and two plastic buckets looped over his arm. The other was carrying a baseball bat, swinging it loosely in his hand.

‘Why are you holding us here?’ Nick called to them as they advanced. They ignored him.

Pizza man stopped about six feet from the cages, lowered the buckets to the floor and stacked the boxes on top of them.

‘Stand back against the wall,’ said baseball bat man to Nick, speaking with a gruff cockney accent. Once Nick had retreated, he stepped up to the cage and unlocked the door.

His friend moved forward and tossed one of the pizza boxes into the cage. It landed flat on the floor with a thump. Then he threw the bucket in after it and moved back.

‘Push the other bucket out,’ said baseball bat man. Nick obeyed, painfully aware of the bat being raised as a precaution while he did so.

The door was closed and locked. Then they followed the same procedure with Michaela’s cage. ‘How long are you going to keep us here?’ she demanded. She got no answer.

‘The pizzas are cheese and tomato,’ said baseball bat man after they’d finished. ‘Thought we’d play safe in case you were vegetarians. Besides, they reckon shit stinks less if you don’t eat meat, so it’s win-win, ain’t it?’

‘You’ll pay for this,’ said Michaela with sudden sharpness.

‘We’ll be paid for this, luv. That I can guarantee. However it turns out for you.’

‘Who are you working for?’ asked Nick.

‘Wouldn’t know. It’s all contract work. Know what I mean? Now, enjoy your supper. The lights are on a timer. They’ll go out in about an hour. So, tuck in. And remember to eat your crusts like good little children.’

Wada had told Holgate she needed to sleep on the problem of what to do next. In truth, she didn’t expect a night’s sleep to make any difference. There was nothing she could do for Michaela Morrisette and Nick Miller. There wasn’t much she could do for herself. She’d become Nishizaki’s enemy and she knew what generally happened to them.

She went for a restless early-evening walk and ate a solitary supper back at the hotel, then took a long, cool bath, which she’d sometimes found led to a restful night.

It didn’t this time.

*