Buster gave a long sigh. ‘Jesus, Tom, this is unbelievable. A DCI using intercepts and bank monitoring to get a serving DS wiped-out?’ The detective paused, worry etched in the lines on his forehead. ‘You know I trust you and I owe you more favours than I can ever repay from our SRR days, so I’ll do it. One thing though.’ He paused, raising his eyebrows while taking a sip of his lager. ‘Don’t go killing anyone. I know how good you are at it. We may be able to make some of this official if the evidence can be parallel-proved, and we may be able to use whistle-blower rules to protect you. Just don’t kill anyone, okay? You kill someone then I can do fuck all to help you, Borat.’

‘I’ll try. I promise.’ Tom took a deep swig of his drink.

‘Another thing,’ Buster said.

‘Go on.’

‘What happened with Ivan: the dead bloke in Willesden?’

‘I went there to see him to find out what he knew. Someone got there before me and slit his throat. One of the Serbs turned up and I knocked him out and legged it. A bullet may have gone through the ceiling, but I didn’t fire it.’ Tom said.

‘Hmm. Well there are loads of people on the Murder Squad who want to speak to you. Neil Wilkinson is keeping a bit of heat off you after the kidnap attempt, but they will start calling you a suspect rather than a person of interest unless they get hold of you soon.’

‘Not yet. No way. I have genuinely no idea who I can trust. Apart from you, Buster.’

The two men clinked glasses before Buster said, ‘Right, I have to get out of here. I’ve got your number and I’ll get back to you once I know something, so stay local. I’ll pop into Charing Cross nick as I can access everything from there.’ Buster nodded, finished his beer, stood and walked off with a wink.

Tom sat for a moment longer to give Buster time to get well away before he left the pub. His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating.

‘It’s Stan, old boy. I’ve asked about and no one knows too much, although one or two people seem to know of a rather bad smell about Glenda from the time he was on the NCA. One thing my sources were clear about is that he’s never going to get promoted again, which probably accounts for his bitterness.’

‘Nothing concrete, then. Just rumours?’ Tom asked.

‘Just that, although he’s not well-liked and is thought of as a little creepy, trying to live a bachelor life with his flash car and daft suits.’

‘Okay. Thanks, Stan.’