Valerie and Anthony Celentano were window shopping for baby clothing in the Westernfeld Shopping Mall when the old man ran into them.

Or to be precise the running man collided with Val.

“Hey, watch out,” said Tony.   He reached across to push away the man who had Val pressed up against a rack of pink and blue baby jump-suits.

“Sorry,” said the man, panting, clearly on the brink of exhaustion.   He pressed Val’s hand for a moment, as though in apology, then turned and raced out into the crowd.

“What was that all about?” asked Tony.   He helped his young wife out of the wrack of baby clothes.

“I … I’m not sure,” said Val.   She looked down to her right hand where the running man had slipped something.   A piece of note paper! she thought, looking at the white square.

Val started to raise the page to show Tony, but stopped at the sound of gunfire behind them.

“What the …?” asked Tony.   They looked round as three men in dress suits raced through the crowd, pushing people aside rudely.

“Out of the way, damn it!” said a tall, thin, slightly grey-haired man,   Who, like his two companions, looked like an archetypical English businessman – except for the forty-five calibre revolver he held in his left hand.

“Stop, Michaels!” called a second businessman, carrying an assassin-style nine-millimetre pistol.

Behind the first two businessmen ran a short, dumpy man, almost as exhausted from the race through the mall as the man they pursued.

“What the hell …?” said Tony as the three gunmen ran up to them.

He started toward them, but Val gripped him tightly, saying: “Please, don’t!”

As the three men thundered after the old man, Michaels, Tony looked for a moment as though he intended to ignore his wife’s entreaty and attempt to help the man.   Finally, reluctantly, he allowed her to pull him close and put his arms around her as the crowd screamed and scattered to allow the businessmen clear access to the runner.