The music stopped, and for a second Hawkins thought they had finished, but after what must have been a choreographed pause, the music kicked back in and the band continued, louder than before. At last they wound up, leaving her ears ringing. She clicked her jaw, trying to clear the residual scream as the drummer got up from behind his kit, jumped from stage to floor and jogged over to them, breathing hard. He was stripped to the waist, displaying a physique that suggested a well-used gym membership somewhere, and a chunky silver ring in his left ear.

‘All right?’ He assessed both visitors through the orange lenses in his white-framed shades, sweat beading on his tattooed chest. ‘You here to sign us up?’

‘Not exactly.’ Hawkins showed him her ID, introduced herself and Mike. ‘Who are you?’

‘David Wilkins, Hammersmith’s premier drumsman, at your service. What can I do for you?’

She eyed his bandmates, now gathered at the side of the stage, talking quietly, glancing their way. ‘We’re looking for John Mardell.’

Wilkins’ eyes narrowed. ‘Mardell? Don’t know anyone by that name.’

‘You sure ’bout that?’ Mike produced the band’s CD. ’Cause we found a whole bunch of these in the guy’s trunk.’

Hammersmith’s premier drumsman shrugged. ‘Must be a fan.’

‘Really.’ Hawkins looked around. ‘There are six bunks in here; but only five of you. Whose is the last bed?’

Wilkins was about to answer when a loud voice cut over him.

‘Anyone for reefer?’

Everyone turned towards the entrance, to see the shape of a lone male by the entrance, holding something aloft. He came forwards, moving far enough into the light for Hawkins to see that he carried a stuffed Ziploc bag.

She looked at Mike as he said the word she was thinking.

‘Mardell.’

They both stepped forwards as their quarry stopped, obviously having seen the intruders. Hawkins just had time to watch the look of surprise on his face turn to recognition, then dread, before he turned.

And ran.

Hawkins took off after Mardell as Mike shouted at the band to stay put, covering the distance to the door in seconds with her partner close behind. They burst outside, checking both directions in the darkness.

‘There.’ Mike pointed past the Alfa at the figure retreating rapidly through the shadows, towards the main road.

Hawkins followed as he sprinted away, estimating the gap at twenty yards, a fair distance to make up on foot, but from what she remembered of their approach minutes earlier, the street outside was long and hemmed in both sides by buildings. Mardell would have to turn one way or the other and go a fair distance before he’d be able to try and lose them.

Ahead, Mardell had reached the gates at the end of Albion Mews and turned right, disappearing from view just as a large van entered, temporarily dazzling Hawkins with its lights.