At just after 1 a.m. Haut was lying beside his bed, his rifle next to him. The moonlight was minimal in a black sky, yet there was enough illumination from the skylight to see shapes in the room. Cavalier was on the floor at the top of the stairs with a pillow for a headrest and his new night glasses, courtesy of Anthony Jones, resting on his forehead.

They were alerted by a yellow light flashing on the wall.

Haut sat up.

‘Vic,’ he whispered.

Cavalier indicated he’d seen it. He got to his feet, tossed the pillow into the bedroom, slipped on gloves and picked up the Uzi.

‘The laundry,’ Haut whispered.

Cavalier positioned himself at the top of the stairs in the small alcove. He pulled the night glasses over his eyes. Haut slipped a bike helmet onto the pillow on his bed. He then put on another helmet and lay flat on the floor gripping his rifle.

A blue light went on, indicating movement in the front room. They heard light, careful tread and squeaks on the plastic cover on the stairs. Cavalier had the Uzi’s safety catch off. He gripped the weapon. He could feel his heart thumping.

Three shapes eased up the staircase, stair by stair, two men in front with the third behind them.

The size of the first shape indicated it was Hollos. He had his arm raised. Each intruder had a handgun. The stairwell curled round so that the three men were soon nearly level with Cavalier. He thought they would hear his heart. They hesitated for several seconds. Then they moved up another stair. What they saw was a shape on the bed. A head? Hollos was next to Castro, with the lean figure of Leni one stair behind them. They lifted their guns to fire. Cavalier moved right so that he was a metre in front and above them. He pulled the Uzi trigger. He felt the jolt up and to the right. He kept his finger down hard, causing an ear-splitting boom, boom, boom. Hollos and Castro slumped. The three figures thumped and tumbled down the stairs on top of each other. Apart from the crash and bang as the bodies fell, not a sound came from the three men.

‘Vic!’ Haut called, ‘you okay?’

‘Put on the light,’ Cavalier said, lifting his glasses. His Uzi was pointed at the shapes. There was no movement from the tangled heap. He eased down the stairs and examined the bodies, pressing hard where a pulse would be on the necks of Leni and Castro. There was none. He did not have to check Hollos, whose skull had been shifted sideways like a slipped crown. Blood was trickling from a dozen wounds and landing on the plastic, creating little crimson pools. A bullet had gone right through Hollos and into Leni.