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‘There were two SIGs in the Jag?’ Koenig said woodenly. He felt very foolish. He was also aware he’d just gambled with someone else’s life. It was the Urbach–Wiethe. Had to be. Fifteen years ago he’d never have done anything so reckless. He wondered if it was getting worse.

‘One each,’ Draper confirmed. ‘Bernice thought we might need them. I retrieved mine while you were sticking your knife in that one-eyed asshole’s wrist. I left yours in the concealed compartment.’

Margaret brought the tea tray over. ‘Shall I be mother?’ she said, lifting the ceramic teapot. Koenig reached for a cookie. Biscuits, they were called in the UK. These were custard creams. They were pretty gross. Koenig ate five. He never turned down free calories.

‘In medieval Germany, married couples legally settled disputes by fighting a duel,’ Margaret said. ‘The man was inside a hole with one arm tied behind his back and the woman was given a sack of rocks.’

‘I don’t need a sack of rocks,’ Draper said. ‘ My gun has a firing pin.’

Margaret picked up her cup of tea and took a sip. She sighed appreciatively, then said, ‘Where do you want to start, Elizabeth?’

‘At the beginning,’ Carlyle replied. ‘What do either of you know about the Future Threat Disruption Program?’

‘Ah,’ Draper said. ‘It’s about that , is it?’