That was Sir William Horwood, Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police. He’d gained the unaffectionate nickname as a military man who had survived a famously bizarre assassination attempt involving poisoned chocolates; among his many unlikeable characteristics was a flat refusal to believe accusations of police corruption or wrongdoing. It infuriated those who wanted the Met to be better, and also those who wanted it to look better. “What did Sefton do?” Aaron asked.

“Had his hand out. Now we’re having to look at all the men he was usually on duty with, the filthy bastard. Do you have something on him? I want to make the sort of example of him everyone else won’t forget in a hurry, and every little helps.”

Aaron gave him Wildsmith’s account, without a name. Cassell heard him out but shrugged his shoulders. “Sounds about right. We had a couple of similar complaints from street-walkers. No use to me, though.”

“It’s indecency on his part, and on my witness’s story, it’s clear incitement.”

“They always claim incitement. I’m not getting bogged down in a he-said-she-said with queers, or dragging in a hard-to-prove misconduct charge that he can use to muddy the waters.”

“What Sefton did was tantamount to assault.”

“It’s hardly assault if your chap signed up for it.”

Aaron felt his gut clench. “Under false pretences. And he paid dearly for it.”

“Shouldn’t have broken the law, then. I dare say he feels hard done by, but he got two months for soliciting when it might have been two years for gross indecency. The important thing is that we get Sefton dismissed from the Force, and we will, no matter what the Commissioner thinks. Why did this come to you?”

“In the course of another case. I said I’d look into it.”

“Well, he can bring a complaint if he wants to admit to an offence, but he did less time than he might have, and the man responsible is losing his position anyway. I’d say your fellow is best off keeping his mouth shut. In more ways than one.”

He laughed at his own witticism. Aaron’s neck muscles spasmed so hard they hurt, but he made himself smile too.

***

THAT MEETING DIDN’T put him in a better mood. He told himself that Cassell was an honest man, a good copper, doing the right thing overall. Perhaps one in a hundred of their colleagues would find anything wrong in his casual dismissal of Wildsmith’s experience, and Aaron just had to live with that because it wasn’t going to change. The knowledge didn’t make their conversation easier to swallow.