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carry on.
    As they drew closer, he couldn’t help noticing that they were both taller and bigger than him. In his panicky state they seemed to loom like giants before him, powerful and menacing, and watchful for the slightest hint of fear.
    ‘Yeah, I don’t know what you were playing at last night, Mike,’ Alex said, forcing terse joviality into his voice as he carried on an imaginary conversation with the phone. ‘Talk about letting the side down, mate. You were hammered even before the tequila shots started.’
    The two officers could plainly hear the sirens from around the corner by now. Alex watched as one of them pointed and said something to his companion, their pace quickening. No doubt they sensed trouble and wanted to investigate for themselves.
    They were getting close now, no more than fifteen yards between them, the distance closing fast now that both cops had speeded up. The only relief was that neither of them seemed to have noticed Alex. Their attention was firmly on the noise and commotion coming from around the corner.
    ‘What’s that, mate?’ Alex said into the phone, almost forgetting the ruse he was trying to maintain. ‘Yeah, there’s some trouble here by the sounds of things. Probably a couple of pissheads having a punch-up.’
    Just ahead, a couple of gangly looking teenagers were standing outside a door leading into the communal stairwell for the apartment block towering above them. One of them had buzzed the intercom and was waiting for a reply, a plastic carrier bag bulging with cans of beer clutched in his hand. His friend spared the two police an unwelcoming glance, perhaps having had run-ins with them in the past.
    Ten yards to go. Almost there.
    It was then that Alex heard the crackle of a radio. A police radio. And from this distance, despite the static and the distant wail of sirens, he was able to make out the message with terrible clarity.
    ‘All units be advised, suspect on foot near Highfield Avenue. IC1 male, late twenties wearing jeans and dark hooded top. Possibly heading south.’
    That was it.
    In that instant, Alex knew he’d been discovered. Unable to help himself, he glanced up at the officer whose radio had just betrayed him, saw the dawning realisation in the man’s eyes as the pieces came together, saw him reach down for the pepper spray at his belt even as his mouth opened to shout a warning to his colleague.
    It was then that something happened. To Alex’s left, there was an electronic buzz as the stairwell door was unlocked from one of the flats above. Eager to get in out of the cold and drizzle, the young man with the carrier bag reached out to open it.
    Alex reacted on instinct, moving almost before he was aware of what was happening. Rushing forward, he threw his arm out and caught the youth square in the chest, knocking him backward. There was a startled shout as he stumbled and fell in the police officers’ path, slowing them down for a few precious moments.
    Before his friend had time to react or the police untangled themselves from the makeshift obstacle, Alex had slipped in through the gap and pulled the door shut behind him. There was a faint click as the magnetic lock engaged once more, temporarily sealing him inside.
    Desperate and breathing harder as adrenaline caused his heart rate to soar, he glanced around, taking in the empty concrete stairwell that smelled faintly of urine. He might have bought himself reprieve, but it was unlikely to last for long. Already he could hear boots hammering against the door, accompanied by muffled shouts.
    ‘I’m trapped,’ he said into the phone, hoping against hope that his mysterious guide might be able to help him. ‘The police rumbled me. I had no choice.’
    ‘Where are you?’
    ‘In a stairwell. One of the blocks facing onto the street.’
    There was a pause as she considered this new development. ‘Is there another exit?’
    Alex let out a breath. The only doors on this level led into the residents’