I stayed still for a moment, my hand closing on the recording device I had snatched on my retreat from the train. Who had bugged the crypt? And why send it to my employers unless it was part of some unfathomable conspiracy to make the Ace of Clubs and his team start raking through my life. Were they heading to Gilsland even now: a snatch-and-grab team briefed to bundle up old Walt and deal with any other civilians who might happen to get caught up in the crossfire. I felt sick at the thought of it. Flick was capable of so much more than she thought she was but she didn’t know much about the world beyond her own little perimeter. She’d witnessed me do unspeakable things but still thought I was a thoroughly good person. She didn’t doubt my cover story about working for the United Nations. She didn’t question anything. She’d come apart like damp paper if she found herself being interrogated by the Clubs about her involvement in some botched conspiracy.

I slid down the bank, waiting for gaps in the traffic so I could make my way up to the service station without being observed. I caught a glimpse of myself in the darkened glass of the phone box and didn’t recognize the gaunt, pale-faced woman with the short hair and sodden clothes who yanked open the door and slipped inside. I got the familiar whiff of it: the cigarettes and ammonia; the petrol and smoke. It was almost comforting.

I fed coins into the payphone, forcing myself to relax. It took a moment to remember the number but I could see it written down on a scrap of paper and could read it from memory as if looking at a photograph. There was no answer at first and then a sleepy, snappy voice answered with a curt ‘Hello’.

‘Gwen? Hello, I’m so very sorry about the hour but I really need to speak to Felicity if you could stand to give a knock on the wall. It’s Mrs Hemlock.’

She took a moment to get herself together. I think I heard her take a sip of water and light a fag. ‘She’s not back, Mrs Hemlock. She and John went out in the car not long after you called this evening. It was good to see him out and about. I’ve been keeping an eye out for the car but no sign yet. No doubt there’s a tree come down on the road or John’s started to feel poorly. I wouldn’t worry just yet. Can I take a message?’