‘Get me another car!’ Parfit had already picked up the receiver and was dialling. ‘Hello?’ he said. ‘Let me speak to Detective Inspector Frazer.’ He put his hand over the mouthpiece and spoke to Sanders. ‘We’ve got to find them before they leave London.’ He removed his hand. ‘Hello, Craig? Parfit here. Yes, long time no see. I want a favour. A very important one. Can you get your lads to keep their eyes peeled for a red Vauxhall Cavalier.’ He asked Sanders for the registration, and then repeated it down the line. ‘Thanks, Craig. Goodbye.’ He stared hard at Sanders. ‘I thought I told you to get us a car!’

‘Yes, sir.’ Sanders dashed out of the room, holding his neck where the fist had chopped down on it.

When the door was closed, Parfit took a deep breath and stared at his cabinet. It was time. He was about to rise from his chair when the telephone rang. He picked it up without thinking.

‘Parfit?’ said the voice. ‘Blake here.’

‘Blake.’ Parfit’s heartiness was bluff, and nothing but.

‘I’ve had my say, but the PM reckons it’s too amorphous – actual words, “too bloody vague”. We’re to gather a bit more intelligence before we can act.’

‘It may be too late by then.’ Parfit was thinking: it may be too late right now. The cabinet beckoned.

‘Nevertheless, those are the orders from on high.’

‘Since when did that stop us, Blake?’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Farquharson said, his tone full of meaning. It was time to tell him.

‘Dreyfuss and Hepton have left us, headed who knows where.’

The silence on the line was as piercing as any scream. There was a cough of static before Farquharson’s too-calm voice said, ‘What will they try to do?’

‘That’s what I’m wondering myself, Blake. I’d say they’re capable of trying anything, and I do mean anything.’

‘Oh my God.’

‘So, PM or no PM, it looks as though there is no alternative. No point in my hanging around here either, so I’m going out into the field.’ Parfit paused. ‘With your permission.’

Blake Farquharson knew what ‘going out into the field’ meant in Parfit’s terms. He thought quickly but hard. But then, as Parfit had said, there was no alternative.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘You must do what you think fit.’

‘Thank you, Blake.’

‘But promise me one thing.’

‘Yes?’

‘Keep it as low-key as possible.’

‘Trust me, Blake.’

‘What if you don’t find them?’

‘Oh, I think I’ll find them. I’ve got a sneaking suspicion I know exactly where they’ll be headed.’

He put the receiver down. Then picked it up immediately.