‘What – you think you can talk to a former employee and we don’t get to hear about it immediately?’ Steve Warboys said. ‘We like to maintain close contact with our former employees.’ His face clouded. ‘Especially when they run off halfway through a contract. Asuman gave us a head’s up that you’d been round.’ He touched his heart and I saw the thick gold rings on his right hand. ‘For which I am grateful,’ he said. ‘And, yes, it’s possible that her visa papers were not completely in order when she worked here. But that was some years ago, Detective. And in those days, their visa was not the first thing I looked at. Know what I mean? But that was then. And it’s a different world now.’ A cloud drifted across his sly, slow features. ‘I think you might be looking to fit us up, copper.’ He held back the red velvet curtain. ‘So get out and don’t come back.’

I was naturally curious.

‘And what happens if I come back?’

‘Your new friend – Bianca – will say she gave you a Southend shoeshine,’ he said. ‘Know what one of those is?’

‘I can make an educated guess.’

‘Believe me, the allegation will be enough to bring in the IPCC,’ he said, referring to the Independent Police Complaints Commission, the body that investigates charges of misconduct against the police. ‘Enough to embarrass your family,’ he said. ‘Enough to get you and your colleague suspended.’

He held out his phone to reveal half a dozen strippers draped all over PC Billy Greene. One of them was grinning at the camera as she fiddled with his belt. I had to admit it didn’t look good. And it would look even worse sat in an interview room with the IPCC. Perhaps Steve Warboys was not quite as thick as he looked.

I stood up and smiled at him. I have seen a lot of young hoods that tried walking like the Richardsons, the Warboys and the Krays – the twins – as if Reggie and Ronnie were the only twins ever born.

It’s a natural aspiration for the criminally inclined, like a singer wanting to be bigger than Elvis. Steve Warboys did it better than most, but in the end he was not the king of anywhere apart from a pole-dancing joint by the side of the motorway.

And I wasn’t scared of him.

‘I’ve met your grandfather,’ I said. ‘And you’ve got that same colouring. But as far as I can see, that’s all you got from Paul Warboys. You’ve got the name but not the game. Sorry.’

‘Get the bats, Mahmud.’