She didn’t need to announce herself. I’d recognize Alexis Lee’s voice anywhere. The combination of Scotch, cigarettes and Liverpool have produced a unique Scouse growl. Alexis is the crime reporter on the Manchester Evening Chronicle, and we’ve done each other a few favors in the past. I didn’t count waking me up as one of them.

“What the hell is so urgent you need to call me at this time in the morning?” I moaned as I dragged myself into a sitting position. Richard mumbled in his sleep and turned over. Lucky bastard.

“Jack, known as Billy, and Gary Smart,” Alexis said. “A little bird told me you could give me the SP on their little operation.”

“You woke me up for that? Listen, Alexis, I can’t tell you a damn thing about the Smarts. If it’s not already sub judice it soon will be.”

“I thought you were half a lawyer, Kate. You should know you can’t charge dead men.”

“You what?”

“The cops raided their warehouse in the early hours. Billy and Gary did a runner in a hired Porsche. They got as far as Mancunian Way, then Gary lost it and they went off the elevated section. Car ended up the thickness of a club sandwich on Upper Brook Street. I’m surprised you didn’t hear the bang round your place. Anyway …”

“Hang on a minute,” I protested. “I need to take this in. So they’re both dead? You’re sure?”

“Believe me, Kate, I saw the wreckage. A gerbil would have struggled to make it out alive. So that’s why I’m picking your brains. I thought it would make a nice little plug for Mortensen and Brannigan. Efficiency in contrast to the boys in blue.”

“Look, Alexis, I’d love to help, but I’ve not even had a cup of coffee yet.”

“No problem. Get some clothes on and meet me in the office canteen in quarter of an hour. Breakfast on me.”

People think private eyes are hardnosed. They sure as hell don’t know any journalists. I sighed and bowed to the inevitable. Better than having Alexis round here discussing my latest case with Richard. “Make it half an hour.”

Now I knew I was never going to have to visit another disgusting greasy spoon on the tail of Billy and Gary Smart, bacon, eggs and fried bread held a strange appeal, even in the subterranean gloom of the Chronicle canteen. I tucked into breakfast while Alexis filled in the gaps in our telephone conversation. I couldn’t believe how bright and bouncy she was at that time in the morning. And she’d been up a couple of hours before me, after a tip-off from a contact in the police control room.