So you need to think of me all bloodied and bruised and covered in dust and paint and feathers, laid out on the floor of Cordelia’s study. I clattered down like I’d fallen out of an aeroplane, I swear, and only managed to get my hands up in front of me at the very last moment. Even so, the impact felt like being run over by a truck. One moment I was up in the rafters trying not to make a sound and the next I was in so much pain I couldn’t even find the breath to cry.

I can remember bits of what they were shouting at one another; all those men with their angry faces and their beetle-black eyes, faces all sweaty and pink; jumping out of their seats and spilling their drinks and diving backwards as if they were under attack.

‘… good God, he’s set us up! …’

‘… how dare you!’

‘… told you he couldn’t be trusted …’

It was Pelletier who silenced them. Pulled a gun from his pocket and fired it into the roof – a look on his face that suggested this was all in a day’s work. I half remember him looking down at me and giving a funny little smile. He looked almost pleased with me – impressed that I’d got as far as I had.

I can see the little man too. I know now that his name was Walt and that he was the reason that everything happened, but at the time I just thought of him as the one in charge. He wasn’t smiling at me. He looked absolutely furious. He was the only one in the room who didn’t react like the world was falling in when I fell through the roof. His world seemed to move at a different speed to everybody else’s. He just stepped out of the way and leant back against the chimney breast, hands in his pockets and glaring down at me. He had the look of a kid who hasn’t won any of the prizes at their own birthday party.

I lay there for a moment, head ringing, the sound of the gunshots seeming to reverberate off the walls. Then the two bruisers were hauling me to my feet. I felt a hand in my hair yanking my head back as I was pushed toward Walt. I felt blood running from my nose into my mouth. One eye was all blurry. He put his face so close to mine I could smell his hair oil and see the crumbs between his teeth. His glare was as startling as a bucket of scalding water. Then his features changed and a slow, sly smile split his face.