‘Sorry to keep everyone waiting, but let’s get underway.’ Hawkins motioned towards the new recruits. ‘First things first. Obviously, we all know Frank, whose six-month secondment with the hate crime unit ended at a very convenient time for us, so welcome back, Mr Todd.’ She glanced at the DI, cross-legged and glowering, plainly no happier than she about his re-assignment to the team. Or his babysitting brief.

Ominously, she had to turn to the opposite side of the room for her next introduction. ‘And this is DC Chris Whelan, who’ll be joining us for the foreseeable future, to work under Frank and learn the ropes of murder investigation. Why don’t you introduce yourself, Chris?’

‘Umm. OK. Yes.’ Whelan stood, clearly not having expected to take the stage, tucking in a stray shirt tail as he rose, knocking over his chair and sending it clattering to the floor. Amala righted it.

‘Thanks. Thanks.’ Chris straightened, brushing straw-like hair out of his eyes, looking deliberately at each of his adopted colleagues in turn, the way Hawkins imagined stuffy boarding schools probably taught. She winced to herself, having caught Frank’s derisive expression at the younger man’s fumblings. It was hardly a surprise, of course; the kid personified everything Frank loathed, from the boardroom-level endorsement to the soft, plummy accent and polished shoes, even the supposed diploma denoting potential line-leading aptitude.

He spoke for no more than thirty seconds, but Hawkins knew her people well enough to see that he quickly managed to lose everyone except Aaron, who wasn’t listening in the first place. She was glad when he sat down.

She went through superficial motions of getting Aaron and Amala to reciprocate, before moving on.

‘So, for the benefit of those who don’t know, these three bodies were discovered yesterday morning at an abandoned flat in Brixton.’ She pointed to the photographs of the victims attached to the investigation board, now including one of a healthy Joel Kowalski found in the Estonian’s bedroom the previous day, and indicated the crime scene photos below each mugshot. A neat line of three naked, decaying cadavers. She saw Chris swallow hard. ‘Forensics think all this degeneration occurred naturally in the estimated two weeks since they expired, which incidentally makes it impossible to determine cause of death for any of them, at least until the full post-mortems take place later today.’ She watched eyes roll among her expanded team. ‘I know, I know, but Gerry’s team are on it, so we should have an answer before long. I’ll update you all as soon as I hear anything.’

‘Till then,’ she continued, ‘I want to pool the information we gathered yesterday about the victims, ideally to establish if they knew each other, how they each came to be at the flat in Brixton, and most importantly, why they’re dead.’