She glared at me and then down at her daughter, who was looking up at all the grown-ups with a shocked expression that showed that only now, at the end, did she understand the sheer depth of the shit she’d just dropped herself in. Looking back, I reckon the only reason it didn’t all go pear-shaped right there in the kitchen was because Lady Ty couldn’t figure out which one of us she was more pissed off with.

‘Why don’t we all sit down,’ said Guleed, ‘while I arrange some transportation?’

Me and Tyburn took our seats but I noticed Guleed fade out the kitchen door, the better to demand shitloads of back-up. We were going to need transportation back to Belgravia, a search team for the house plus, please god, some Falcon back-up for me and a senior officer to throw the warm comforting blanket of rank over the whole proceedings.

‘Am I really under arrest?’ asked Olivia.

The brief cleared his throat.

‘You,’ said Lady Ty to her daughter. ‘Not one more word. You,’ she said to the solicitor. ‘I want the best criminal solicitor you know waiting for us at the police station when we get there.’

The solicitor gulped, bobbed his head, and opened his mouth to speak before thinking better of it. Pausing only to gather up his briefcase and papers he made a speedy exit from the kitchen.

‘I—’ said Olivia.

‘Shut up, you stupid little girl,’ said Tyburn.

And so we sat in silence for the ten minutes it took Guleed to rustle up some official transport, whereupon she returned to the kitchen and told Olivia that she would have to accompany her to the station. We all stood up again, but this time Lady Ty had herself under control and she watched her daughter being led away without any major property damage.

Although I did make a mental note to check with Thames Water that afternoon – just in case.

‘Is this your idea of three bags full?’ she said once we were alone. ‘I should have left you under the ground.’