‘Don’t be daft,’ Jock growls. He doesn’t take a seat, but folds his arms and leans against the wall, just out of my eyeline so that I can’t look at him without craning my neck away from Breitner.

‘Just three blokes having a chat.’ Breitner reaches behind him, where a crystal decanter and a set of whisky tumblers sit, and pours three glasses.

‘You’re probably wondering why I wanted to meet you,’ says Breitner. He takes an ugly gulp of whisky and leans forward, sizing me up.

In my hand the crystal is heavy enough to brain a man. I have a cartoonish thought that maybe I’ll need the weapon to get out of here. Kendall axed Clare’s pension tax after his meeting with Muller. Muller represents Media Corp. Media Corp owns the FC, and when I tried to write my story I got Streatham breathing down my neck and Lorimer spiking it. Lorimer, who has millions of pounds of share options dangling in front of him, courtesy of Jimmy Breitner.

In the back of my mind I hear Jess’s voice cautioning me that it’s all circumstantial: that Breitner had no motive to kill the tax if his pension fund’s in rude health, and – the biggest flaw – that even if he did, once he’d nobbled the Chancellor, then why would he care what happened to Clare? A thought runs through my mind as I stare into Breitner’s heavily lidded eyes: did you snuff out Clare, you monstrous cunt?

Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. Whispering it inaudibly three times is good luck.

Breitner revolves the heavy watch on his wrist. ‘There’s only one thing on all our minds at the moment.’ A pause, those eyes drilling into me. ‘The fucking general election.’

It’s not what I expected and my surprise must show because his lips open in an understated smile revealing flashy dentistry.

‘Jock tells me that you know more than anyone else on my payroll about the socialists.’ I feel flattered. ‘Are they going to win?’

‘Well, nothing is certain in politics . . .’

‘You don’t need to hedge with us, sonny,’ Streatham barks from over my shoulder. I may be wrong, but I think he is trying to be friendly, even if it is in the way of a snarling dog whose tail is wagging. Have I misread the situation? ‘Just give it to us straight. We’re all on the same team, aren’t we?’

The whisky smells of peat and smoke but I decide not to drink – which is hard, because it is without doubt well above my price range. ‘The polls give Labour a healthy lead.’

‘We can all read the polls.’