Jack Johnson laughed loudly. ‘You mean, did I tuck him up?’

Lenny nodded. ‘Did you?’

Jack stopped laughing. He said seriously, ‘Truthfully? Yes and no.’

Lenny frowned at his words. Jack Johnson sighed. He knew he would have to explain himself. The strange thing was, he didn’t want Lenny to have a bad opinion of him. Lenny was a straight arrow in many respects and, though he was capable of great violence and great cruelty, Lenny Scott was also what was known as an honourable man.

‘It’s a long story, son.’

Lenny grinned one of his crooked smiles and said, like a schoolteacher, ‘Then let story time begin. I’ll make us another cuppa first.’

Lenny was intrigued. He couldn’t imagine Jack tucking anyone up. But, as his dad always said, you live and learn.

Chapter Sixty-Four

Reggie was waiting at Custom House to meet Detective Inspector Daniel Smithson. Reggie had been shocked to get the early morning call from him, demanding they meet in private. Seemed it was of the utmost urgency and only he could help him.

Reggie Dornan’s healthy disregard for the police as a whole had come in handy and he had managed to make the man think he was doing him a big favour by giving him a half-hour of his time. Christ knew, they paid the fucker enough. But it was handy to have Old Bill beholden to them, and something personal could always be used at a later date. So, he waited, looking out over the Thames and wondering what the fuck could be so important he was out of bed at this ungodly hour.

It was the beginning of autumn and the cold was setting in across England. There was a grey mist over the water and he could see the faint lights of office buildings in the distance. Reggie heard a car pulling up and turned to meet Smithson. He didn’t like the man, but that was neither here nor there. You didn’t love a guard dog, but you fed it and you housed it because it could be useful to you.

Smithson got out of his car and Reggie could see the worry on the man’s face as he walked towards him. He wasn’t exactly the answer to a maiden’s prayer; he was tall, thin and looked like he had not eaten a decent meal in months. His sparse, sandy hair was badly cut, and he always seemed to have an aroma of peppermints that Reggie and Lenny guessed rightly was to hide the smell of his serious boozing. He was scum as far as they were concerned, tucking up his own. But they wisely kept that opinion firmly to themselves.