Kareem shook his head with a dismissive smile. ‘We will not debate that. J introduced himself, told me his position at MI5, and declared how delighted he was to meet me in person after observing me for so long. I assured him that the pleasure was entirely mine. Then he dangled his bait – I remember the words verbatim. “You are free to leave this flat any time you wish,” he began. “However, should you do so, you will be immediately arrested by the Special Branch of the Metropolitan Police. There is sufficient evidence, legally obtained through the correct warrants, for you to be given a double-digit prison sentence for money-laundering and conspiracy to finance and commit terrorist acts. I am here to suggest that we spend a little time discussing an alternative. From something you recently said to one of your colleagues, I think that you might be interested.”’

Kareem stood up abruptly, grabbed the pack of cigarettes even though the first one was still burning in the ashtray and walked over to the glass doors. He stared out, reflecting, it seemed, on the immensity of his predicament. For a moment the veneer of pride dulled briefly with a dropping of his shoulders. He straightened and swivelled.

‘Join me,’ he commanded. Patrick moved alongside him by the glass. ‘These panels open. If I ask, we can step outside, the rain has stopped. What do you see there?’

Patrick decided not to play clever. ‘A table. Metal fretwork. Matching chairs. Brick walls. A wisteria that’s shed its flowers.’

‘I meant – what do you see?’ repeated Kareem.

‘If you insist. There’s no apparent way out.’

‘Well done, Patrick.’

‘Unless J’s bluffing.’

Kareem smiled gently. ‘Are you even allowed to suggest that?’

‘I told you, I’m here for you.’

‘He was not bluffing.’

‘Do you have regrets?’ asked Patrick.

‘That’s enough,’ said Kareem. ‘Be careful where you tread.’

The guard was back up; Patrick understood this man had no desire for friendship. Any relationship was professional only. ‘You want legal help. What can I do for you?’

‘Further conversations have taken place. It turns out that they are, in effect, offering me a job.’

‘What job?’

‘That is not for you.’

‘What is for me?’

‘I want you to arrange a contract. A proper legal contract.’

‘He wanted a contract!’ Sara exclaimed, allowing herself to shout against the noise of splashing and passing buses and lorries.