She lowered her eyes. ‘Didn’t want me to go. We chatted more. Then I truly thought he might just be about to cough something.’

‘But he didn’t.’

‘No. Don’t know why he baulked. Or what I did.’

‘Stop beating yourself. You did well to get that far.’

She winced. ‘I left him my number. But I think he’s slipped the hook. So onto the next.’

He was circling streets with no particular aim, listening. ‘No,’ he said. ‘You’ve had a bite. These neighbourhoods are chatty. You carry on walking their streets and word will get around about you and your survey. Not bad words, just words. Give it twenty-four hours. Stay out of sight and mind.’

‘Won’t it be time wasted?’

‘I’ve a better idea. Fancy climbing a hill?’ Without awaiting her reply, he put his foot on the accelerator and sped without exceeding the limit too blatantly in the direction of the Savoy Inn.

She wondered why he hadn’t asked to see the actual files – it was such an obvious request. The good manners to wait until she offered? Or a man who knew how to bide his time?

Sami Mohammed, concealed inside the porch, watched until she turned the corner. She reached the end of the street quickly. Either there really was no one in at the further ten doors she’d approached or she hadn’t bothered to ring any bells.

Who was she? Why had she seemed so desperate to get into his house? The old terror was creeping back. Was she part of them, testing him out? Or part of something else, wanting to rake over the coals? Perhaps embers still flickered and, even now, the fire hadn’t gone out. He went inside, closed the door, and shot upstairs to his bedroom, bypassing the inquisitive stare of his mother.

He retrieved from its hiding place in his chest the card they’d left with him. Time froze as he stared at it – plain, three by two inches, now yellowed at the corners with a crease down the middle like the depression in an old man’s back. On it a number, nothing more. The threat that came with it didn’t need to be written down – he’d never forget it. ‘If anyone ever starts asking questions, anyone at all, anytime at all, even years ahead, phone this. You don’t, you’re dead.’

He tried to work out the risks. If she’d been sent by them – what the reason might be this many years later he couldn’t begin to fathom – he could end up dead meat if he didn’t at least try to phone it. If she’d come from someone trying to go after them, he could still end up dead if he didn’t warn them.