Cameron came up to them with a tray of shots, big party-girl grin in place. With a few whoops of encouragement each of them took one. As they downed the shots, amid the bustle of clinking glasses and grimacing faces, I reached into the middle section of Ling Ling’s bag. I clasped my hand around what felt like the Dictaphone. I quickly pulled it out, put it straight into my bumbag and turned around. I was officially a bumbag convert. It wasn’t a dated 80s accessory, it was a hands-free handbag allowing me to be fully operationally effective. I fitted the iPhone charger to the Dictaphone and turned back to check on Ling Ling and her friends.

Cameron seemed to be trying to persuade them to do something but there were a lot of shaking heads. She glanced over at me as they left the bar and headed back into the throng of people.

I looked down at the iPhone charger. The small light on the back of it was still red. The transfer wasn’t complete.

We had to get the Dictaphone back inside that bag. With the remote bug in place, transferring audio files back to Geraint’s IP address, we would be able to hear everything at every meeting.

This late night was not going to have been for nothing.

We followed Ling Ling and her friends as they negotiated their way through the crowds. We were halfway across the room when the light finally went green. I disconnected the Dictaphone and handed it to Cameron. She strode ahead and I watched as she danced up to Ling Ling as if they were now old friends. She could be nice when she needed to be. She put an arm round her as she shouted something into her ear and slipped the Dictaphone back into her bag. Cameron then high-fived Ling Ling and her friends and sashayed off, hands in the air. Party Girl and Rat was definitely an easier fit than Mother and Rat.

Our mission had been accomplished. Now back home to bed.

And then I saw a Ghost.

He was broad with clipped hair and wearing straight-leg jeans with a light green fleece. He had a nose that looked like it’d been broken more than once. He was not far behind Ling Ling. Ignoring the music. No phone in hand. That and his unfashionable attire made him stick out. I scanned the room and saw another Ghost not far behind him. He was a thickset man, stood alone, just staring at Ling Ling.

Why the hell were Ghosts following Ling Ling? Were they also wanting the Dictaphone? Were they going to grab her? Was it a trap to draw us out? To see how much we knew?

Ling Ling was still talking to her two friends, mobile clasped in one hand, drink in the other, her Balenciaga bag still slung over her shoulder.