Harry’s lips twisted into a delinquent smirk as she looked down at the prone body and saw that the syringe was empty. She retracted it, then seemed to examine Devereux’s blank face before turning her attention to Hepton. But by then it was too late. Hepton had grabbed the door handle and pulled the door tightly shut. He locked both hands around the handle. He had her now. He had trapped Harry! He looked up and down the corridor, but it was empty. Still, soon someone would appear from a room, ready for breakfast, and he would order them to telephone Parfit. The main thing was—

‘Hello, Martin.’ The voice was faint, lacking any trace of emotion or feeling. Hepton resisted the temptation to place his ear against the door, the better to hear her words. He remembered Jilly’s flat, the bullets splintering past him through the wood panelling. ‘Long time no see,’ Harry continued. ‘I’ve just been tidying up a little.’

His voice was firm. ‘Where’s Jilly?’

‘You should be dead by now. You know that, don’t you? You’ve turned into a real challenge, Martin. I enjoy a challenge. I’ll enjoy killing you.’

‘I asked where Jilly was.’

‘Does it matter? We’ve got her. If you want her alive, quit now.’

‘Quit what?’

Her laughter was as cruel a sound as Hepton had heard. ‘Just quit,’ she said. ‘You know what I mean.’

He looked around him again. There was still no one in the hallway. His arms were aching from holding the door closed, yet Harry had not yet attempted to open it.

‘You didn’t have to do that,’ he said.

‘Do what?’

‘Murder Devereux.’

‘Orders,’ she said. ‘That’s all.’

‘Orders from Villiers?’

‘Ah, you know about Villiers. Yes, I’d forgotten that. Stupid man. He should have been more careful. But no, not Villiers. These orders came from overseas. Someone’s been keeping tabs on Mr Devereux, someone besides your friends and you.’

‘Oh? Who?’

‘It doesn’t matter. But the Americans have been getting nervous, so they asked—’

‘All that matters is that the coffin gets buried,’ said Hepton.

His words had their effect. There was silence from behind the door.

‘Too many people know now, Harry,’ he went on. ‘Too many for even you to be able to shut them all up. You can’t bury it.’

She laughed again. ‘I don’t see anyone stopping us. I see a lot of mice chasing their own tails and squeaking, only no one’s paying attention to them because no one wants to pay attention to them. Because what we’re doing is for the best.’

‘Who’s we, though? You and Villiers? The chiefs of staff? Who?’

‘Bigger than that, Martin. Much, much bigger. Coffin.’

‘But what does that mean?’

‘It’s an acronym, of course. You know how the armed forces and the bureaucrats love acronyms.’