‘Thank you,’ he said, then began to jog back the way he had come, leaving the man standing there uncomprehending.

He arrived at his car without further incident. They wouldn’t want his death to look suspicious, so he didn’t bother to check for bombs under the chassis or snipers on the rooftops. He just got in and drove, trembling throughout his body, heading south towards Boston and further on to Peterborough, and beyond that London.

He stopped once for petrol and asked the attendant where he might find a telephone. There was a payphone on the wall outside the gents’. A man was coming out of the toilets, his face wet. Hepton had noticed a car parked beside the pumps. The man smiled.

‘Never any bloody paper in these places,’ he said, explaining the wet face. Hepton nodded. ‘Needed a bit of a splash, though,’ the man went on. ‘Driving to Leeds tonight. Bloody long way, but the roads are quieter at night than through the day. I’m a rep, you see. You get to know these tricks.’

Hepton smiled again, but offered no reply. The last thing he needed was a lengthy conversation with a professional traveller. The man seemed to take the hint and moved past him, towards the station shop. Hepton turned his attention back to the telephone. He lifted the receiver, slipped a ten-pence piece into the slot and dialled the number of the base.

‘Hello,’ he said. ‘I’d like to speak to Nick Christopher if he’s around.’

It took a minute or so, then Nick’s voice came over loud and clear.

‘Nick here.’

‘Nick? It’s Martin.’

‘Hello, Martin. What can I do for you?’

‘I just wanted to check something. You didn’t leave a note at my flat, did you?’

‘A note?’

No, of course he hadn’t. Because he was in Binbrook, not Louth. Because the note had been written by Harry. Which meant she knew Nick Christopher was Hepton’s best friend …

‘Nick,’ Hepton said. ‘There hasn’t been someone there asking questions about me, has there? A woman in her late twenties, short blonde hair, attractive?’

‘No, can’t say there … Hang on, yes, there was somebody here like that. Saw her go into Fagin’s office. Tasty piece.’

That was it then. All she’d had to do was ask Fagin who Hepton’s closest friend on the base was. Then she’d used his name to lure Hepton into the trap. Not the cleverest of traps, but then it had probably been devised in haste, now that she saw him for the threat he really was.