‘But what I can’t forgive,’ he continued, ‘what I will bring you down for, is giving my foster family’s home address to those bastards, who you knew would kill them. To silence me and get the footage of that sick fuck Adebayo back, you were willing to murder my family. I know it all, so don’t fucking dare deny it, or I’ll snap your skinny little fucking neck right here.’

Tom sat back in the chair, his legs crossed, and his fingertips steepled in front of his face, a sudden picture of calm as his eyes locked unblinkingly on Taylor.

They held that position for a full minute before Taylor eventually broke the silence.

‘I assume you have proof of all this? I guess not, or it would be the IPCC here now, not you,’ Taylor said, a little confidence coming back into him.

Tom said nothing but just continued to stare without moving a muscle or even changing his expression. He wasn’t expecting a confession, inadmissible as it would be in any case, as Taylor couldn’t be sure that Tom was not recording the conversation.

‘I have a photo of you snorting coke off a prostitute’s belly. It’s nice but you look a little saggy: you may want to work on your abs,’ Tom said with a smirk.

A hint of a smile came across Taylor’s face. ‘How did you get those? I assume in a manner which complies with all the evidential requirements that a leading QC would be unable to challenge?’

‘I know you sent the text to Branko with my parent’s address on,’ Tom said, feigning a slight fluster of his own.

‘And how do you know about that, DS Novak? I assume any invasion of my privacy was properly authorised by a superintendent at least?’ Taylor was warming to his task now, enjoying the apparent turning of the tables.

‘I’m going to bring you down, all of you; especially now my family are safe. I wonder what happened to the Brankos and all the Serb mafia you sent to me. Where’s Adebayo? Everyone has vanished, I hear; it’s just you and your cronies left. Just think, Taylor, just think to yourself, “I wonder what Tom Novak is capable of?” I hope you sleep soundly in your lovely place in Watford.’ Tom smiled, but the menace was obvious and evident in his voice which had lowered to a growl.

Alarm flashed in Taylor’s eyes. ‘How dare you threaten me, you odious little man? Who the fuck do you think you are? Your career is finished, you little refugee rat,’ he spat with a mix of fury and fear.

Tom paused, the silence almost congealing the atmosphere in the stuffy office.