‘This is Michael Adebayo. He is the sole solicitor at Adebayo Associates Solicitors, and he came to the UK aged eight with his parents. He’s a Christian by birth but converted to Islam at university. His firm is an immigration specialist and the analysts looking at the applications he has submitted have raised some serious concerns. We think he is submitting hundreds of corrupt applications every year. It seems he is active at the local mosque and, as he’s been so successful, he is inundated with clients of all nationalities. In the eight years Adebayo Associates have been trading, he has submitted over seven thousand applications, many with serious question marks about them. Financially, he is very wealthy and has made a fortune out of his trade. He’s the only solicitor at the firm; the other staff are unqualified caseworkers. He’s a clever man as he only employs local employees who are all multi-lingual, so he can see and deal with all types of clients. He is a terrible employer and a really nasty piece of work, apparently: everyone is terrified of him. He also has a brother, Emmanuel Adebayo, who seems to be his link to the underworld.’

A further image flashed up on the screen of another African male who looked similar to Michael Adebayo but with a much larger build, close-cropped hair and a short, trimmed goatee beard. His face was twisted in a grim, arrogant expression and his flat, dull eyes were so dark they almost looked black.

‘We think Emmanuel sorts the forged documents required for supporting bogus applications and provides security and muscle if things get a bit lively with unsatisfied customers, of which there are lots. He got out of prison a year ago: he got four years for GBH after he battered one of his brother’s customers to a pulp when he went to his office to complain that his application for leave to remain got refused—’

‘Jean, do we have a source for any of that intelligence?’ Neil interrupted.

‘Not directly into the solicitor’s firm, but there has been some anonymous intelligence, probably from ex-staff members and clients about his business practices. We can’t just go storming into his offices: because of legal privilege we’d get our arses sued off. We need a solid, prima facie case before we go in. We do have a live informant on the periphery of the Bosnians. He’s done some work with the Branko brothers, but he’s not a hard man so is of no real use to them. I think they’ll need some extra muscle and you could be that muscle, Tom.’ She fixed him with an appraising look.

Not an intercept then, thought Tom.

‘I understand from Neil that you’re something of an expert in martial arts?’ she asked.