A smartly dressed girl wearing a black jumpsuit, a headband and sunglasses walked down a neat garden path and knocked firmly on the front door of the Dangerfield’s household.

Johnny’s older brother Ian answered the door. ‘What do you want?’ he scowled. Then he held up his hand. ‘Wait a sec, you’re that girl from school – one of those snitches who lied about me being in the girls’ toilets and got me suspended.’

The girl sighed. ‘Who I am is of no importance to you.’ She held up a photograph of his younger brother dressed in a James Bond costume. ‘But who and where this person is right now is of great importance to me. Do you know where I can find him?’ she said sternly.

‘Maybe,’ Ian grunted. ‘What’s it to you?’

The girl put the photograph back in her pocket. ‘It’s crucial I contact him as soon as possible. I urgently need your help in this matter. I believe that you possess information no one else does.’

‘Really?’ Ian sneered again. ‘Why should I help you with your request to find this person?’

The girl paused. ‘I can make it worth your while.’

‘Hmmm,’ Ian stroked his stubbly pimple-spotted chin. ‘You mean like a reward?’

The girl nodded. ‘Absolutely.’

‘Okay – well, that changes things then, doesn’t it?’ Ian opened the front door widely. ‘I think it’s best that you come inside. I believe we have a few things to talk about . . .’

The young woman looked over her shoulder to make sure she wasn’t being followed, and then she walked through the door.