Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Archie eagerly poised to inject her, the sharp point of the needle wavering in the air.

She breathed a sigh of relief as Rick plucked the business card from her fingers and scanned it with his black eyes.

‘Donald Ferguson,’ he murmured. ‘Chief Executive Officer. Wycombe-Ballard Limited.’

‘He’ll verify that I used to work for him. You can check the dates and everything.’

‘I don’t think—’ started Stephen.

But Rick held up his hand and Stephen lapsed into a reluctant itchy silence. Rick took his phone out of his jacket pocket and dialled the telephone number on the business card.

He stood there waiting for it to be answered, staring directly at her. Then his eyes flickered away as someone answered at the other end.

‘I’d like to talk to Mr Ferguson, please,’ he said.

A pause. Probably some kind of holding music. His eyes locked back onto hers. She could feel her heart thumping hard inside her ribcage. Then someone came on the line.

‘Is that Mr Ferguson?’ said Rick.

Another pause.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I’m calling from an organisation who’s offering a job to someone called Bailey Sharpe. We’d just like a reference. Over the phone is fine. We just want to confirm that she worked for you.’

He listened for a few moments.

‘Oh, she did work for you, huh?’

He nodded and listened.

‘And you say she was a good hard-working employee as well. A self-starter.’

He stared at Bailey, a small dry smile on his face, as he listened to Ferguson extolling Bailey’s virtues.

‘Okay, yes I’m sure we’ll be very lucky to have her. And one last thing – what dates did she work for you?’

Again he listened and nodded.

‘Okay, well, thank you very much for your time.’

He ended the call. The smile dropped off his face.

‘Well, well. Isn’t that convenient?’

He tossed the card contemptuously into her lap.

‘The thing is though,’ he said, ‘that could be a fake company. We know how the Filth operate. That number probably goes through to the police switchboard. I was probably talking to a bleeding copper just now.’

Bailey kept her expression firm, shaking her head vehemently. ‘I’m not a fucking pig, okay.’

‘Yeah right. Do you think I was born yesterday?’

‘I told you. I’m not a copper.’ She bristled indignantly, trying to look insulted, which any real criminal would be. She had to front it out and do her best to remain in character.

Rick sighed. ‘I think a dose of scopolamine should clear things up pretty quickly.’

Stephen smiled triumphantly.

Bailey’s heart dropped. She knew any resistance on her part might be interpreted as a tacit admission of guilt. And if she did attempt to resist, they’d more than likely hold her down and forcibly inject her with it anyway. Either way, she was screwed.

‘Go ahead,’ she said defiantly. ‘See if I care. I’ve got nothing to hide.’