I’m only half listening. My mind is driving at two hundred miles an hour and it’s not noticing the signs along the motorway. For whatever reason, the Chancellor took orders from Breitner. Kendall became incensed when Clare called him out about it. He used his security service connections to silence Clare, and then to burgle my flat to see what was in my notebook.

The clicking of Jess’s pen summons me back. I realise I’m accusing my employer of blackmailing the Chancellor and I’m on the point of articulating this on the office phone. If anyone were listening in, I’d be dismissed on the grounds of mental incapacity.

‘Let’s meet for a drink to talk it over. There’s something else.’ I can tell Jess is anxious about my swerves, but I continue. ‘I need a favour.’

‘The sort of favour that would get me fired?’

‘You know the builder who knocked Clare off her bike? I need to find out more about him.’

A long silence. ‘I am not sure that’s one of your better ideas.’

‘I just want a quick once-over, to see if he is what he seems to be.’

‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Would you mind going round to his house and banging on his door?’

‘Lorimer’s right, boss. You’re losing your grip.’

‘Will you or won’t you?’ Her reluctance is annoying. ‘It’s not that big a deal.’

‘If it’s not that big, then do it yourself.’

‘Fine.’

She sighs. ‘But if you’re going to do it, you’d better have adult supervision.’

A red light on my phone has started blinking. Someone’s trying to reach me. I ignore it. ‘Shall we head there now?’

‘Won’t he be out at work?’ She’s right. Tiredness is clouding my thinking.

‘Oh yes.’ The phone light is still blinking. ‘What if I drive to the Commons at 6.45 and pick you up.’

‘It’s a date,’ she says, without enthusiasm.

‘I’ve got a call coming in. Hold on.’ I push the button to switch to the other line. ‘Yes?’

It’s Lorimer’s secretary. ‘Can you go up to the tenth floor?’

The tenth floor is where the bosses live. ‘Why?’

‘I understand you’ve been chatting with Mary about a possible story. The editor thinks it would be sensible for you to talk it through with the lawyers.’

‘Ah.’

‘If you go to reception and ask for Nigel Sands, he’ll be expecting you.’ She hangs up, abruptly.

This is a first. I have never been to the tenth floor. I’ve never been ordered to chat with one of the company lawyers, just on the basis of a conversation with the news editor, before I’ve even filed anything. And I’ve never heard of Sands. He’s presumably not just one of the young lawyers we pay to check copy for libel.