He found himself stumbling through a couple of minutes of casual chit-chat, embarrassed it had been so long since they’d been in touch. He congratulated Cornish on her rise through the ranks, played down his own position with JTAC and then he was on to the meat of the call.

‘We’ve had some intelligence recently about a group of animal activists planning something big, something to rival the jihadis. The fox-hunting debate has been won, animal testing is on the way out and the public have lost interest. They need a marquee event to garner a little attention.’

‘Other people taking their thunder, hey?’ Cornish said.

‘Something like that.’ Holm paused. Even though he’d worked a long time in the security services, he still found the lying difficult, and he didn’t like deceiving Cornish. ‘The way the wind is blowing they need publicity to promote their cause.’

‘We’re not talking Huntingdon again, are we?’

‘No, this is something different. It’s right on your patch so I figured you’d be willing to get your hands a little dirty in order to help us.’

‘Dirty?’ Cornish sounded wary, unconvinced. She’d emphasised the word in such a way as to imply a degree of scepticism. ‘What do you mean by that, Stephen?’

Holm sighed to himself. Cornish had always been keen on professional integrity, dead straight, and part of him was grateful her integrity hadn’t been compromised on the scrabble up the ladder to the top. On the other hand a little bending of the rules would come in handy right now.

‘Nothing dodgy.’ Holm glanced across to Javed. The young man had raised his head and was listening intently. Holm turned and faced away. ‘We just need to keep a lid on things and ensure nobody at your end gets too carried away.’ Holm coughed. ‘National security and all that.’

‘Right.’ Cornish still sounded hesitant. ‘What do you want, then?’

‘I’ll tell you when we get there. If you could clear your diary from, say, elevenish on Monday morning?’

‘Clear my diary? Stephen, that’s going to be—’

‘Lives are at stake, Billie.’ If Taher was involved then there was no deception here, Holm thought. ‘Many lives.’

There was silence for a moment before Cornish spoke again.

‘See you at eleven Monday, then.’

Holm hung up.

‘We’re off up the Yellow Brick Road, then?’ Javed said.

‘Yes,’ Holm said. ‘But if we want to get to Ipswich the A12 would probably be a better bet.’

In the evening Silva and Sean met up with Itchy and his girlfriend, Caz. Caz’s stomach bulged beneath her flimsy dress, a piece of news Itchy had been keeping from Silva. After a round of congratulations, Itchy began to open up on the joys of fatherhood.

‘Man, in four months I’m going to be a dad,’ Itchy said. ‘How does that sound?’