That was bollocks from where I was standing, but I was perfectly happy to keep Crew Cut chatting shit until Nightingale turned up to put him out of my misery. But Crew Cut had to guess back-up was on its way by now, and that it was only a matter of time. He looked a bit too relaxed to me, and it was making me nervous.

‘I think you’re a little bit out of your jurisdiction,’ I said.

‘The whole world is our jurisdiction, son,’ said Crew Cut. ‘And I have the executive order to prove it.’

I looked over at Phoebe who was still shivering – it was noticeably chilly down here and I wondered if the heating had been turned off.

‘I’m going to take off my jacket,’ I said. ‘Nice and slowly.’

Crew Cut told me to go ahead and then he let me pass it to one of his men who passed it to Phoebe who put it on. She was much smaller than she looked in the pictures and seemed even more childlike as she tried to tuck her legs up inside the jacket.

‘Pity,’ said Crew Cut as Phoebe stopped visibly shivering. ‘Another fifteen minutes and she might have told us something useful.’

I told him I thought it might be better if Phoebe were allowed to leave.

‘Better for who?’ he asked.

I wondered again what he was waiting for – what did he think was going to happen?

‘Better for her,’ I said. ‘And, in the long run, better for you.’

Crew Cut made an elegant shooing gesture at Phoebe, but she just stared at him.

I told her that it was going to be all right and was amazingly convincing, all things considered.

Phoebe hopped up smartly and, keeping an eye on Crew Cut, edged past me.

‘Go out the front door,’ I said. ‘And keep going until you see someone in uniform.’

She nodded and headed for the stairs. Just to try my luck I turned to amble after her, but Crew Cut shook his head.

‘Not you, Peter,’ he said and then lifted his wrist to his mouth and spoke into his sleeve. ‘Teddy – we’re letting the shade go.’

That he knew my name pretty much confirmed that these were Kim Reynolds’ visitors, but I did wonder what a ‘shade’ was – and how come this lot were so relaxed. Crew Cut didn’t strike me as stupid. He had to know we would have the house surrounded, and that an armed breach would be next – if they were lucky. If they were unlucky, one of the Met’s highly trained negotiators would turn up and be aggravatingly reasonable to them until the Americans a) surrendered or b) shot themselves in the head in an effort to make it stop.

‘What’s a shade?’ I asked.

‘A creature that looks like a man but walks in the shadows,’ said Crew Cut.