‘Look at me, you old crone. You are under arrest. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. I want to show you something.’

Whitestone’s hand slapped down hard on the table.

When she took it away, Billy Greene’s warrant card was there.

‘Pick it up,’ Whitestone told her.

Madam Theresa glanced at her lawyer, as if this was another trap, and then reluctantly picked up the warrant card.

‘Look at that face,’ Whitestone said.

‘I never saw him before.’

‘And his mother’s never going to see him again. And his girlfriend is never going to see him again.’ Whitestone was trembling with anger now. ‘And the baby she’s carrying is never going to see him.’

I looked at Edie.

She nodded.

I had been so wrapped up in the ritual that I had not noticed Billy’s fiancée was pregnant. I felt something flinch inside me.

‘That’s the warrant card of Trainee Detective Constable William Greene,’ Whitestone said.

‘The policeman who died,’ Madam Theresa said. ‘The one who was driving the lorry.’ She pushed the warrant card away. ‘It had nothing to do with me.’

Whitestone clenched her fists. ‘It’s all to do with you! This reeking mountain of misery. I’ve got a lorryload of dead girls in Chinatown. I’ve got a knocking shop that is using up twenty women a week. What happened to them? I’ve got a young woman whose name was Rabia Demir – whatever grotesque pet name you gave her – who was killed by an overdose of Fentanyl.’

‘Wait a minute,’ Madam Theresa said, desperately looking at her brief.

‘My client wishes to cooperate,’ said the old lawyer.

‘Good for her.’

‘But she can’t answer questions about activities that she had nothing to do with. This lorry in Chinatown – Madam Defarge is not a people trafficker!’

‘No,’ Whitestone said. ‘She’s just a done old pimp.’

I recognised Madam Theresa’s brief as a criminal lawyer from way back. I thought he had retired years ago. And perhaps he had and Madam Theresa never upgraded to a newer model. A common mistake made by the ageing villain. Whitestone was running rings around him.

‘So how did it work?’ I said. ‘Who set you up in the Hopewell Centre?’

She looked at her lawyer. He nodded.