‘I know. We could have been having dinner together at the Savoy.’

She forced a laugh. ‘Goodnight, Patrick.’

‘You too, Sara, and take care. See you in the morning.’

She clicked to view the anonymous message, telling herself not even to try to respond this time – and failing. She hit reply and typed.

Who are you?

Ping.

Message sent.

A new, different terror – someone was there. She waited for a reply. Five, ten, twenty, thirty seconds. A minute. Nothing. She took deep breaths, steeling herself. She dialled the number.

Half a ring, cut by a voice message. ‘The number you have dialled is unobtainable.’

She put down the phone and buried her face in her hands. How was whoever this was doing it? How do you freeze a number just like that? Perhaps it was as simple as using a pay as you go phone – ‘burners’ she’d heard them called – and inserting and removing the SIM card. No trace – an anonymity switched on and off.

Gent Street felt like alien territory. She started the engine, drove to its end and turned right.

The figure who had walked past her stepped back into the shadows and watched her drive by.

Morahan checked his watch. 2.30 a.m. The tape had finally ended – just over two and three quarter hours. He wound back to the time-code he had marked. He’d listened to it twice over at the time, then played to the end to see if the voice reappeared. It did not.

He listened to the passage for a third time, just to make sure there was no mistake. As with all the conversations recorded, some parts could be made out, others not. The first voice was male, precise, clipped. He detected a vainness, a boastfulness perhaps, in it. The second voice was female, probably young, though, from both tone and expression, not a child or teenager.

M: You were one person I had not expected to see.

F: Why?

M: I never forget what you said… INAUDIBLE…

F: If you’re speaking of 9/11, my eyes have seen what followed… INAUDIBLE… INAUDIBLE… Of which you approve, I suppose.

M: Or perhaps of which I was prophetic… INAUDIBLE… INAUDIBLE… The Bush and Blair folly of Iraq… INAUDIBLE…

F: Our world?

M: Of course, our world of Islam.

F: INAUDIBLE… It may be yours… INAUDIBLE… INAUDIBLE… a world I want to share… INAUDIBLE…

M:… I want you to understand me… INAUDIBLE… INAUDIBLE…

F: INAUDIBLE… What are you talking about?

M: Can you not feel it all around you? Not just the Middle East… INAUDIBLE… INAUDIBLE… not just be part of the chorus…

F: What is your play?

M: Who can predict that?… INAUDIBLE… rain of death on our people… INAUDIBLE …

F: INAUDIBLE… INAUDIBLE… You even said it yourself. Time for me to leave.

M: No… INAUDIBLE… Do you think I would I ever want to frighten you?… INAUDIBLE… INAUDIBLE… INAUDIBLE