Sanders looked at the telephone as though it might be about to bite him. Hepton didn’t know who or what Parfit was, but he knew he was important enough for the mere mention of his name to scare Sanders half to death. He jabbed the receiver towards the young man, who licked his lips and stepped forward to take it from him. Gingerly, the way someone might handle a snake for the very first time.

‘Hello?’ Sanders said.

Hepton went over to Jilly and quietly filled her in on the details of his conversation with both Dreyfuss and Parfit. She listened sporadically, still shocked from the earlier struggle.

‘I should have clouted him,’ she said, replaying the moment over and over again in her head. ‘I should have helped you, Martin. But instead I just stood there, yelling into the bloody telephone. Asking someone in America to help. Isn’t that crazy?’ And she gave a tiny, nervous laugh.

He hugged her, and felt her arms pull him inwards, and the feel of her brought back such memories …

‘Er …?’ The voice was Sanders’. ‘Miss Watson?’ She relaxed her hold on Hepton. ‘Major Dreyfuss would like a word.’

Hepton couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy at Jilly’s reaction. She let go of him, a schoolgirl grin appearing on her face, and almost skipped to the telephone.

‘Mickey? Hello there. How are you? Did you get my flowers? You did! I tried telephoning the hospital but I could never get through.’

Sanders seemed embarrassed as he approached Hepton, his eyes everywhere but on Hepton’s own. His voice when he spoke was muted.

‘Look, about Mr Villiers …’

‘Villiers is a maniac,’ hissed Hepton. ‘You people have known that all along, but he was useful to you so you conveniently ignored the fact. What’s more, he’s working with another bloody maniac called Harry.’

‘But I don’t understand. What has he done?’

Hepton considered this. There was no way of knowing, not without apprehending Villiers himself, or perhaps talking to the American, Devereux. He shrugged.

‘What was Parfit saying?’

‘You’re to be given twenty-four-hour protection. Meantime, we’ll put out a full-scale search for Mr Villiers. Well, not exactly we, since it’ll have to be handled by the other lot.’

‘The other lot?’

‘You’d probably call them MI5.’

‘What about Parfit?’

‘He’s MI6.’ Sanders was perking up now. ‘That’s who I work for.’

‘And presumably who Villiers works for too?’

Sanders stared at him. ‘Yes, well …’

Hepton heard Jilly laugh, and glanced across to where she was sitting, perched on the edge of the desk, looking relaxed and with the telephone cord playfully twisted around one finger. Funny how people could change from moment to moment … She was ending her conversation. She dropped the receiver back into its cradle and hugged herself, looking radiant.

‘He sounds fine,’ she said.

‘Yes,’ Hepton agreed.