Basically, the car wasn’t equipped for the job it had to do - which is to say it had ordinary locks on the back doors, so that I could have stepped out at any traffic-light I chose. But I didn’t do that, and didn’t even want to do it. I don’t know why, but I was suddenly feeling very cheerful.

‘Remarkable, yes,’ I said. ‘That’s the word I’d use. Well, no, it’s the word you’d use, but do you mind if I use it as well?’

I really was enjoying myself. It doesn’t happen often.

We turned into Piccadilly, and then up towardsCork Street. Mike pulled down the sun-visor, where he’d tucked Glass’s card, and read out the number. I was mightily relieved he didn’t ask me for it.

We pulled up outside number forty-eight, and the Carl had his door open and was out of the car before we’d come to a stop. He wrenched open the back door and looked up and down the street as I got out. I felt like a President.

‘Forty-eight, right?’ said Mike. ‘Right,’ I said.

I rang the bell and the three of us waited. After a few moments a shortish, dapper-looking chap appeared and busied himself with the bolts and locks on the door.

‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ he said. Very far back voice. ‘Morning, Vince. How’s the leg?’ I said, and stepped into the gallery.

The dapper fellow was much too English to say who’s Vince? what leg? and by the way, what are you talking about? Instead he stood back, with a polite smile, and let Mike and Carl in behind me.

The four of us moved to the middle of the shop and surveyed the daubs. They really were awful. If he sold one a year, I’d be amazed.

‘If you see anything you fancy, I might be able to do you ten per cent,’ I said to the Carl, who blinked slowly.

The good-looking blonde, in a red shift this time, came through from the back and beamed. Then she saw me, and her well-bred chin dropped to her even-better-bred chest.

‘Who are you?’ Mike was addressing the dapper man. The Carl was staring at the paintings.

‘I am Terence Glass,’ said the dapper man.

It was a great moment. One I’ll always remember. There were five of us standing there, and only Glass and I were able to keep our mouths from hanging open. Mike was the first to speak.

‘Wait a minute,’ he said. ‘You’re Glass.’ He turned to me with a desperate look on his face. A forty-year career with pension and numerous postings to theSeychelles was starting to flash before his eyes.

‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘Not strictly true.’ I looked down at the floor to see if I could spot my blood stain, but there was nothing there. Glass had been very swift either with the Vim, or a fake expenses claim.

‘Is there something amiss, gentlemen?’ Glass had sensed unpleasantness in the air. Bad enough that we weren’t Saudi Princes. Now it looked like we weren’t buyers at all.

‘You’re the… killer. Man who…’ The blonde was struggling for her words.

‘Nice to see you too,’ I said.

‘Jesus Christ,’ said Mike, and he turned to the Carl, who turned to me.

He was a big chap.

‘Well, sorry about that little misunderstanding,’ I said. ‘But now that you’re here, why don’t you go away?’ The Carl started to move towards me. Mike caught his arm, and then looked at me, wincing.

‘Wait a minute. If you’re not… I mean, do you realise what you’ve done?’ I think he really was at a loss for words. ‘Jesus.’

I turned to Glass and the blonde.

‘Just to set your mind at rest, because I know you must be wondering ever so slightly about what’s going on here. I am not who you think I am. Neither am I who they think I am. You,’ I jabbed a finger at Glass, ‘are who they think I am, and you,’ to the blonde, ‘are who I would like to talk to when everyone else has gone. Clear?’

Nobody put their hand up. I moved towards the door with an ushering motion.

‘We want the file,’ said Mike. ‘What file?’ I said.

‘Graduate Studies.’ He was still a lap or two off the pace at this point. I couldn’t blame him.

‘Sorry to disappoint you, but there is no file. Called "Graduate Studies" or anything else.’ Mike’s face fell, and I genuinely felt sorry for him. ‘Listen,’ I said, trying to make it easier, ‘I was on the fifth floor, the windows were double-glazed, it wasUnited States territory, and the only way I could think to get out was talking about a file. I thought it might appeal to you all.’

Another long pause. Glass started clicking his teeth, as if this kind of nuisance was just happening too often these days. The Carl turned to Mike.

‘Do I take him?’ His voice was surprisingly high, almost falsetto.

Mike chewed his lip.

‘That’s not really Mike’s decision, actually,’ I said. They both looked at me. ‘What I mean is, it’s up to me whether or not I’m taken, as you put it.’

The Carl stared at me, weighing me up.

‘Look,’ I said, ‘I’ll be honest with you. You’re a big chap, and I’m sure you can do more press-ups than I can. And I admire you for it. This world needs people to be able to do press-ups. It’s important.’ He lifted his chin menacingly. Just keep talking, Mister. So I did. ‘But fighting is a different thing. A very different thing, that I happen to be very good at. Doesn’t mean I’m tougher than you, or more virile, or any of that stuff. It’s just something I’m good at.’

I could see that the Carl wasn’t comfortable with this kind of talk. He’d most likely been educated in the school of ‘I’m gonna tear your heart out etc.’ and knew how to respond to that, and only that.

‘What I mean is,’ I said, as kindly as I could, ‘if you want to spare yourself a lot of embarrassment, you’ll just walk away now and have yourselves a decent lunch somewhere.’

Which, after some whispering and staring, they eventually did.

An hour later, I was sitting in an Italian cafe with the blonde, who shall hereinafter be referred to as Ronnie because that’s what her friends called her, and I’d apparently just become one.

Mike had left with his tail between his legs, and the Carl had had a ‘one of these days fella’ look about him. I’d given him a cheery wave in return, but I knew I wouldn’t count my life a disaster if I never saw him again.

Ronnie had sat wide-eyed through my abridged version of events, leaving out the stuff about dead people, and had generally adjusted her opinion of me to the point where she now seemed to think I was a hell of a fellow, which made a nice change. I ordered another round of coffee and sat back to soak up some of her admiration.