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Theme from Special Branch – Norman Kay
I was left in another room with nothing but a metal table and four metal chairs, all bolted to the floor as furniture. There was a tiny window, less than a foot square, sunken into the pale green painted brickwork on one wall, complete with spider, a web and several flies in a worse position than me. On the table was a recorder; in one corner, high up, was a CCTV camera. Its little light, like the flies, was dead.
I sat in the chill that pervaded the room and wondered when next I would see freedom.
After ten minutes, the door opened, and, as I might have guessed, my man Smyth swept in, wearing a Burberry raincoat, and carrying a Burberry golfing umbrella.
‘I might have guessed,’ I said.
‘Sharman. I’m delighted to see you.’
‘I wish I could sa
