I grip the chain, so powerless and flimsy between my fingers that I can’t stop the third shadow flashing back into my mind, nor the whispers needling in my ear. Never get comfortable, never assume it’s over. And now I’m really flailing, as there’s another tap on the door, Dominic’s hand suddenly tangling over mine. It should be clammy and hot but it’s cool and smooth and…

‘It’s Jonas, Marie, come on…’

I yank away my hand as I stumble backward, crashing into the bed. A click and suddenly Jemima’s there, standing calm, composed, a giant oak in a storm. Except she’s angry, mega-cross, eyes practically throwing sparks on the carpet.

‘Champagne?’ she hisses, head swivelling from me to Dominic. ‘Are you serious? We haven’t even checked the tapes yet and you’re skinning us on expenses?’

Dominic wraps an arm around her, finger against his lips, yanking her away from the door and on to the bed beside me. Even though her eyes are still blazing, she lets him touch her like there’s no world in which it could be a threat. I look away.

‘Look,’ he whispers, shoving the bottle into her lap. ‘Congratulations, see? They’re watching us … Did anyone see you come in?’

Jemima whistles as she fingers the tag.

‘Jonas? Did anyone see you or not?’

‘No,’ she mutters, turning the label over and over in her fingers. ‘I ducked through the fire escape. It was already open. And now I know why…’ 26

The bottle rolls forgotten to the floor as she thumbs through her phone, muttering into the receiver. Think we’ve been followed. No immediate danger. Will check in every five minutes until you get here. Yes, we’re checking the video while we wait.

She hangs up, staring at the phone in her hands like it might burst into flames at any second. I shake my head as its screen flashes with acknowledgment. Unbelievable. Just like that, the newsroom machine’s coming to bail us out. All it took was one shout. Just the one emergency call.

‘How did you know?’ Dominic looks like a ghost in front of me. ‘All that from a bottle of fizzy? I don’t understand…’

‘It doesn’t matter now,’ Jemima mutters, pulling her laptop from the bag at her feet. ‘All that matters now are the goods.’

I scurry back towards the window, unlacing the camera inside my shirt as Dominic fumbles in his pants. At least now we’re back to business. Just like them.

‘Try it again, come on. Just reboot the whole thing,’ Dominic hisses from behind me. As I twist round, I see it – grainy but it’s there. That’s our main man and he’s right there on Jemima’s computer screen. I practically bound back across the room, camera cables dripping from my outstretched hand. The shot flickers, goes black and then flashes up again.