I left the swimming pool at about 2:30am when I noticed that all the lights had gone out and the staff had disappeared. I caught the lift to the third floor, found my room, and pushed open the door.
The room was crammed with big, burly members of the US police force, all with their guns trained on me. Their leader, an enormous woman, explained their presence. They knew that I was involved in terrorist plots that had already led to deaths in London and – on that basis – I was under arrest.
It was true. I had set up some meetings by email, although I believed that nobody knew this.
What really worried me, however, was that now that I had been identified, Belle would be under suspicion too. She would have to stop the Catford gangsters subbing her luxurious lifestyle. Otherwise the authorities would believe that her ‘dirty money’ came from the same sources as mine.