Tom took the Tube from Tottenham Court Road, changed at Oxford Circus, and headed up the Bakerloo line towards Queens Park Station, which was only about a hundred metres from Kilburn Police Station. Walking out of the Tube, he felt the sun break out from behind the clouds and warm his face. He felt good. For the first time in a while he felt in control and in charge of his own destiny. He’d still need a bit of luck if his plan was to pan out, but he was a firm believer in making his own luck, which he hoped he was doing now.

He sent a text to Stan as he walked. ‘Still there?’

The response was immediate. ‘In his office, doesn’t want to be disturbed car parked by the back gate in a response bay.’

Tom typed a reply. ‘Am I clear to swipe in?’

‘My mate assures me you’re good to go.’

Tom had been worried about gaining entry to the nick if his card had been deactivated. The entry card system was pretty basic and carried no other information other than entry and exit controls. He was happy that there would be no marker alerting his superiors if he entered the building.

Tom typed a reply. ‘Nice one, mate. Tell Glenda his car needs moving; maybe get a mate to tell him.’

Tom was well aware how many mates Stan could call up to get that done, and he needed Taylor to unlock the car while he was in range.

Stan replied. ‘Give me 5.’

Tom turned left into Harvist Road along the side of the red-bricked police station and towards the back yard. Ignoring the main vehicle gate, he walked further up and used his warrant card to swipe in at the staff access gate at the rear. The backyard was full of parked vehicles and he immediately spotted the large, grey Jaguar SUV, slap bang in the middle of the response vehicle bays by the back door. Parking there was heavily frowned upon, and the Borough Commander would occasionally get a bee in his bonnet about it.

Tom walked to the back of the yard by the tall fence and got into an unlocked, marked police carrier, the type often referred to as a ‘riot van’, and sat low in one of the back seats. Tom thought it was likely that the Territorial Support Group, who used the carriers, were in the nick, probably with a prisoner. He put on a discarded Gore-Tex jacket and jammed a slightly too large police cap on his head. There was an empty space directly in front of the carrier that Tom was confident was the obvious choice of parking space for Taylor.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

‘On his way down, Chief Super just given him a bollocking, lol!’

Tom smiled to himself, shaking his head at Stan’s abilities.