The wound was still leaking blood when he reached Headquarters Mackie’s overcoat lay in the back of the Sierra. He threw it on, and walked, as evenly as he could manage, into the lift.

Sarah was waiting for him in his inner office, seated in the big swivel chair behind the desk. She jumped up when he hirpled into the room.

‘Oh my God, darling. What’s happened? You’re grey!’

He threw the overcoat on to a chair, and she saw his leg. Her hands flew to her mouth. A scream started, but she choked it off.

‘Bob! That’s a gunshot. Who did it? Are you hurt anywhere else?’

Skinner gave her what was meant to be a reassuring smile. To Sarah it resembled the clenched-teeth expression of someone trying very hard to hold himself together.

‘Don’t worry, love, it’s a flesh wound. I’ve had a talk with the bloke, and he won’t do it again. Let’s use the Chief’s bathroom.’

She helped him along the corridor to Proud’s suite. Skinner opened the door with a key from his collection, and motioned her in ahead of him.

In the white-tiled bathroom, she cut off the bloody trousers. Gently, she removed his makeshift dressing. Then, using surgical spirits which burned with a cold fire, she cleaned the wounds, front and back, and washed the leg.

‘Bob, you have to go to hospital.’

‘I know, but not just yet. I have to see this man.’

She took out a syringe and injected anti-tetanus serum straight into his thigh. Then she placed a powdered lint packing over the raw wound, and bandaged the leg from knee to crotch. As she worked, he talked to her continuously to keep his mind off the screaming-pitch pain.

‘Tell me, Doctor, did anything strike you about those two head wounds you examined tonight?’

‘Yes. I meant to ask you about that. They were caused by different weapons. The younger man was killed by a light-calibre bullet. But Al-Saddi’s brains were blown out, literally. He was hit by something heavy-calibre and soft-nosed: the sort of bullet that would make a hole like the one you have in your leg, for example. If that had hit bone ...’ She stopped suddenly and looked at him, her eyes widening.

‘Clever lady. You should be careful. That thoroughness could land you in trouble some day. When you write your report, I want you to forget all that detail.’

‘Bob, what are you into?’

‘The biggest, nastiest mess of my life, my darling. But it’s almost over now.’

He saw no need ever to tell her of the danger in which she herself had stood hardly an hour before. She looked into his face and decided to press him no further.

When she had finished dressing his leg, she helped him into the sharply pressed grey slacks which she had brought from the apartment. He kissed her, and as he held her close, he whispered in her ear, ‘I’m so glad I found you. If anything should ever happen to you, I’d be finished.’

Sarah saw the trauma in his eyes. She knew that when he was ready, he would tell her the story.

‘Go, my darling,’ she said, ‘and, as always, do what you have to do. Whatever it is.’ Her eyebrow raised in a familiar movement. ‘And as soo as you’ve done it, have someone drive you straight to hospital. Call me the minute you get there. Doctor’s orders.

‘Oh, by the way, Andy called just as I was on my way out. McGuire was still in surgery, but he’s going to be fine. Andy’s staying there with Sergeant Rose, until he comes round. What’s Maggie Rose doing there anyway?’

Skinner smiled. ‘Let’s just say she’s off duty.’

Sarah kissed him again, and ran off downstairs.