‘If you’d like to accompany us to our car,’ said the shorter cop, pointing along the road. A squad car. They’d sent two uniformed officers in a common squad car to pick me up. That right there was sending a message.

I walked to their car and got in the back without saying a word. The officers sat in the front, a mesh grille between us. The cracked leather back seat smelled of bleach on distant keyboards, and vomit and piss on upfront bass and drums. Within moments, we were in motion.

I addressed the cop in the front passenger seat rather than the driver. ‘Officer, how exactly am I supposed to have perverted the course of justice? And who was it who brought that charge against me?’

‘It’ll all be explained when we get to the police station.’

I sat back. Arrested … If I were formally charged, I’d be suspended and probably disbarred. The scum-sucking son of a bitch who’d wanted me to drop Tobey’s case was obviously trying a different approach, hoping for the same outcome. And, if it was the same person or persons, then once I was charged and automatically suspended, they’d have no further use for Troy and Libby. That meant the person responsible knew their way round the judicial system and had clout. Tobey and I had gone from buying ourselves more time for our loved ones to having no time at all.

I dug into my jacket pocket and pulled out my phone. With one eye on the men in front, I pressed the two icons to dial Sol’s private number. It was only when I lifted my phone to my ear that the cop in the driver’s seat protested.

‘You’re not meant to be making any phone calls. You can make one from the police station.’

Ignoring him, I launched in before Sol had finished the first syllable of, ‘Hello?’

‘Sol, it’s Callie. I’ve been arrested for perverting the course of justice. They’re taking me to—Where are you taking me?’

‘Blackfriars Police Station, but you really shouldn’t be on the phone,’ said the driver.

Then stop the car and try to take it from me, bitch.

‘Blackfriars Police Station,’ I repeated for Sol, while eyeing the cop scowling at me in the rear-view mirror.

‘Callie Rose, what the hell?’ Sol exclaimed.

‘Sol, I’m being stitched up. Obviously. I need you to come and bail me out, please,’ I said.

‘I’m on my way.’

He disconnected the call. I stuffed the phone back in my pocket, never taking my eyes off the cops before me. Sol would help me sort this out. I didn’t doubt for a second that he was actually on his way.

And then what? One by one, my options were being snatched away.