‘I’m not sure.’ Hepton thought it over. ‘No, I’m sure she is working for him. Or, at least, they are both working for the same ultimate employer.’ Harry’s words were coming back to him: my employers, who are, ultimately, your employers. But what did it mean? ‘In any case,’ he said, ‘I think Harry’s become … what was that phrase you used? Kill crazy? Yes, that’s what she is. Kill crazy.’ He examined the cars moving past them. Then he turned to Jilly again. ‘How did you find all this out anyway?’ He was both impressed and curious to know.

‘A guy I met at a party,’ Jilly explained. ‘One of the old guard of Fleet Street hacks. He’s been around a bit, reported from Afghanistan, Belfast, Beirut, that sort of thing. It’s a passion with him, the military. He’s written a couple of books. He was able to tell me some of it off the top of his head. The rest he got by making a few phone calls. That’s what you call a network. Every good journalist needs one.’

Hepton’s mind was still trained on Villiers. ‘Yes,’ he said vacantly. A network … ‘Anything else?’

‘Isn’t it enough?’ Jilly sounded slighted. She was checking in her rear-view mirror.

‘Yes, yes, I suppose so. Thanks for …’ She was still staring in the mirror. ‘What is it?’ He turned and caught a glance, three cars back, of a dark-coloured Sierra. ‘Shit,’ he hissed, gripping the seat with his hands.

‘Is that her car?’ Jilly asked, her voice level.

‘I think so.’ Hepton looked back again. The dark car was in the process of overtaking one of the vehicles between them. He let out a sigh of relief. ‘No, it’s okay. It’s not a Sierra. It’s a bloody Cavalier.’

Jilly’s shoulders relaxed too. She was nearing another set of lights. ‘I think there’s a shortcut here, unless they’ve blocked it off.’ She signalled left and squeezed the MG into an alleyway. The high buildings either side seemed purpose-built to hem them in. There was a screech of tyres behind them. The Cavalier was following, speeding up. Hepton remembered the night Harry had tried to run him down in an alley almost as narrow as this, and every bit as deserted. Then he recalled that he had seen the red Cavalier before: hurrying towards Jilly’s flat as they were making their getaway.

‘They’re chasing us!’ he called.