‘I could shut down your little business tonight,’ Whitestone said. ‘If the judge is sufficiently senile, then he might buy your line about Sampaguita being a – what is it? – Social Introduction Society. My guess is that would be laughed out of court. My guess is that you would get done for causing or inciting prostitution for gain. And – again, this is just my opinion – I think you would serve a custodial sentence.’ She looked back at Ginger. ‘You tell me – could you do jail time?’

Ginger stared at her defiantly.

‘You would not believe what I’ve had to do to survive,’ she said quietly.

‘I doubt that,’ Whitestone said. ‘Because you see, Ginger, I’ve been clearing up the mess of commercial sex since I was in uniform. I’ve seen poor little cows who should have still been in school sold to twenty men in one night. I’ve seen girls with their front teeth knocked out because they disobeyed some evil stinking pimp. I’ve kicked down doors and found women who thought they were coming here for a better life. I’ve seen the lot.’

‘That’s not me,’ Ginger said. ‘That was never me. If that was me, Max would have busted me the first time we met.’

Whitestone nodded. ‘I know.’

Ginger looked genuinely confused.

‘Then what do you want from me?’

Whitestone suddenly seemed very tired.

‘We had to look at eleven dead women before breakfast.’ She nodded at me. ‘Max watched another one die – Hana, her name was Hana – at the Royal Free. So before I can sleep tonight, I just need to feel like I’m fighting back.’

‘Busting me is not fighting back,’ Ginger said. ‘It’s lashing out.’

‘Ginger,’ I said. ‘Where do they come from? The women who work for you?’

‘They come from everywhere, Max. Europe. Asia. South America. They come from everywhere except here.’

‘How do they get in?’

‘Student visas. Tourist visas. But of course if they’re from one of the countries in the European Union, they come in through the same immigration line as you.’

‘And what about the ones who don’t have student or tourist visas?’ I said. ‘What about the ones who don’t come from Europe?’

‘What are you asking?’

‘I’m asking if there’s one of your girls who came into this country in the back of a lorry,’ I said. ‘If there was anyone who was smuggled in. If there’s someone who works for you who came in the hard way.’

She hesitated.

‘There was one,’ she said at last. ‘Turkish. Years ago. When I was starting out. I know she came here in the back of a lorry. Her name was Asuman. She said it meant daughter of the sky. Asuman Ata. Sweet kid. Very shy. She certainly came here the hard way.’

‘And how did you meet Asuman?’ Whitestone said.