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‘It’s now or never, mate,’ Poe said to Stahl. ‘Step out of this car and you’re on your own. I know from experience that’s not a nice feeling.’

‘You’ll be watching me?’ he said, his voice little more than a whisper.

Now it was time, the enormity of what was being asked of him had dawned on Stahl. He was trembling, he was blinking rapidly and his breathing was fast and shallow. He looked like a man who could use a drink.

‘Like a hawk,’ Poe said. ‘And not just me. All three helicopters are overhead now. As soon as he makes an appearance we’ll surround the park and put undercovers in. Take him when he tries to leave.’

‘And my microphone is still working?’

Poe glanced at the tech. Received a confirmatory nod. ‘It is. And remember, if he tries to take the one taped to your chest, let him. It’s a real mic but it isn’t transmitting. The live one is on your head. Hopefully he won’t think to check there.’

‘Do I go now?’ Stahl said.

‘If you’re ready?’

‘I am.’

‘And you can see the picnic table he wants you to sit at?’

‘The one next to the ha-ha,’ he said, pointing towards a sunken ditch.

‘That’s right.’

Stahl stepped out of the car and offered Poe his hand. ‘In case something goes wrong, Sergeant Poe,’ he said, ‘I’ve enjoyed watching you work.’

Poe shook it then watched as Stahl crossed the road and entered Chance’s Park.

‘Good luck, Henning,’ he said to himself.

‘How long did Henning Stahl wait before anything happened?’ Commander Ratface asked Mathers.

‘Six minutes, sir.’

‘Was that unexpected?’

‘Yes, sir. The Botanist had been extremely punctual with his communications up until then.’

‘Did you consider calling it off?’

‘I did, sir. Chance’s Park was far too quiet for a Sunday.’

‘So why didn’t you?’

‘After consulting the senior managers on the ground I made the decision to press ahead. Up until then we hadn’t caught a single break and this seemed like our best chance.’

‘When did you first suspect things were about to go wrong?’ Commander Ratface asked.

‘When I saw the lady in the pink T-shirt, sir.’

Poe watched Stahl through his binoculars. From car to picnic table, he hadn’t taken his eyes off him. Not for a second. Stahl still looked horror-stricken, but he was doing what they’d advised – he wasn’t looking around, craning his neck to see what was happening. He was simply looking straight ahead with his hands palm down on the table.

‘Who the hell is she?’ Mathers said.

The woman was wearing a garish pink T-shirt and leggings. She was jogging on the spot. She stopped, and with her legs straight, she bent forwards at the hips, lowering her head to the floor. She then reached behind, grabbed the back of her calf muscles and held the position. A standing hamstring stretch, Poe thought it was called. It looked like she was getting ready for something. As he watched, another woman joined her. Then a man. Then a group of five jogged in.

It wasn’t long before there were fifty of them.

‘Oh shit,’ Poe said.