It was a burglar who got me into Thai boxing three years ago. Dennis O’Brien is what I like to think of as an honest villain. Although he feeds and clothes his wife and kids with the proceeds of other people’s hard work, he’s got his own rigid moral code that he adheres to more firmly than most of the supposedly honest citizens I know. Dennis would never rob an old lady, never use shooters, and he only steals from people he thinks can afford to be robbed. He never indulges in mindless vandalism, and always tries to leave houses as tidy as possible. He’d never grass a mate, and the one thing he hates more than anything else is a bent copper. After all, if you can’t trust the police, who can you trust?

I’d been having a drink with Dennis one evening, asking his advice about an office I needed to have a quiet little look round. In return, I was answering his questions about how I work. He’d been outraged when I’d revealed I had no self-defense skills.

“You want your head mending,” he exploded. “There’s a lot of very naughty people out there. They’re not all like me, you know. Plenty of villains don’t think twice about hitting a woman.”

I’d laughed and said, “Dennis, I deal in white-collar crime. The

He’d interrupted, saying, “Bollocks, Kate. Never mind work, living where you live, you need martial arts. I wouldn’t bring the milk off the doorstep in your street without a black belt. Tell you what, you meet me tomorrow night and I’ll have you sorted in no time.”

“Sorted” meant taking me to the club where his own teenage daughter was junior Thai boxing champion. I’d had a good look around, decided that the showers and the changing rooms were places where I’d be prepared to take my clothes off, and signed up there and then. I’ve never regretted it. It keeps me fit and gives me confidence when I’m up against the wall. And time has shown that just because a man has a fifty grand salary and a company Scorpio it doesn’t mean he won’t resort to violence when he’s cornered. As long as the British government never takes us down the criminally insane road of the USA, where every two-bit mugger totes a gun, I guess it’s all I’ll need to keep me alive.

Tonight, I’d got what I came for. As I showered afterwards, my whole body felt loose and relaxed. I knew I could go home and listen sympathetically to Richard without biting his head off. And I knew that in the morning I’d be raring to go on the trail of Billy Smart and Moira Pollock.