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he?’
    Toby said, ‘There have been developments. I’m far from sure exactly what’s going on, but they’ve raided your offices. Also we’re getting word that simultaneous raids are being carried out on your other premises worldwide, domestic and commercial.’
    I think that was the moment when I first felt a chill of fear beneath the volcano of anger and indignation that had been simmering inside me since I met Medler coming up my stairs.
    I sank heavily on to a chair.
    ‘Toby,’ I said, ‘what the fuck’s going on?’
    Before he could answer, the door opened and Medler’s face appeared.
    ‘Nearly done, Mr Estover?’ he said.
    ‘Give us another minute,’ said Toby.
    Medler glanced at me. What he saw in my face seemed to please him.
    He gave me one of his smug smiles and said, ‘OK. One minute.’
    It was the smile that provoked me to my next bit of stupidity. To me it seemed to say, Now you’re starting to realize we’ve really got you by the short and curlies!
    I said to Toby, ‘Give me your mobile.’
    He said, ‘Why?’
    I said, ‘For fuck’s sake, just give it to me!’
    In the
Observer
profile when I got my knighthood, they talked about what they called my in-your-face abrasive manner. When Iread the draft, I rang up to request, politely I thought, that this phrase should be modified. After I’d been talking to the feature writer for a few minutes, he said, ‘Hang on. Something I’d like you to listen to.’ And he played me back a tape of what I’d just been saying.
    When it finished, I said, ‘Jesus. Print your piece the way it is. And send me a copy of that tape.’
    I made a genuine effort to tone down my manner after that, but it wasn’t easy. I paid my employees top dollar and I didn’t expect to have to repeat anything I said to them. That included solicitors, even if they happened to be friends.
    I thrust my hand out towards Toby. It took him a second or two, but in the end he put his mobile into my palm.
    I thumbed in 999.
    When the operator asked, ‘Which service?’ I said, ‘Police.’
    Toby’s eyes widened.
    When he heard what I said next, it was a wonder they didn’t pop right out of their sockets.
    ‘The Supreme Council of the People’s Jihad has spoken. There is a bomb in West End Magistrate’s Court. In three and a half minutes all the infidel gathered there will be joining their accursed ancestors in the fires of Hell.
Allahu Akbar!’
    Toby’s face was grey.
    ‘For God’s sake, Wolf, you can’t …’
    ‘Shut up,’ I said, putting the phone in my pocket. ‘Now we’ll see just how efficient all these new anti-terrorist strategies really are.’
    They were pretty good, I have to admit.
    Within less than a minute I heard the first sounds of activity outside the door.
    Toby said, ‘This is madness. We’ve got to tell them …’
    I poked him hard in the stomach.
    It served a double purpose. It shut him up and when the door opened and Medler said, ‘Come on, we’ve got to get out of here,’ I was able to reply, ‘Mr Estover’s not feeling well. I think we ought to get a doctor.’
    ‘Not here, outside!’ commanded Medler.
    I got one of Toby’s arms over my shoulder and began moving him through the door. I looked appealingly at Medler. He didn’t look happy, but to give him credit he didn’t hesitate. He hooked Toby’s other arm over his shoulder and we joined the flood of people pouring down the corridor towards the exit.
    To create urgency without causing panic is no easy task and I think the police and court officers did pretty well. But of course the last people to get the message are very aware that there’s a large crowd between them and safety, and they want it to move a lot faster than it seems to be doing. Two men dragging a third along between them forms a pretty effective bung and all I had to do as the lobby came in sight was to cease resisting the growing pressure behind me and let myself be swept towards the exit on the tide.
    I