The man slipped out of the car and walked along the Bayswater Road where he hailed a cab. Willy watched him go with contempt. What a fool. He’d handed over large sums of money and Willy had taken it without a second thought. If the man had had any sense he would just have had them taken out. It would have been cheaper. But for some reason best known to himself he wanted Briony Cavanagh stripped of everything she had first. Willy pocketed the wad of money the man had passed to him at the start of their meeting and smiled again. Who gave a fuck? he thought. So long as the money kept coming he could do what he liked. As he drove towards Hoxton he daydreamed of being the Baron of the East End. The first Baron who was also a pimp. He would be in control of just about all the women who worked the streets. The prospect pleased him. It was his dream come true. Plus he would enjoy taking out Miss Cavanagh, the feisty bitch! She needed knocking down a peg and he was just the man to do it.

He had heard the whispers that Lane was looking for him. Well, let the fucker look. There was no harm in that. But he wouldn’t find him. Tommy would see him when the time was right, and then he would be the last person Tommy Lane saw in his life.

Briony had just finished drying herself when Tommy came in the bedroom. She stood naked, her tight belly emphasising her small breasts, and Tommy dived across the room and grabbed her. His hands were freezing and Briony screamed. He picked her up and carried her to the bed. Laying her down gently he kissed her mouth tenderly.

‘You still look like a kid, especially with that mad hair all over the place.’

‘Well, I don’t feel like one. Let me up.’

Tommy leant on her with all his weight, pinning her to the bed.

‘No. Why should I?’

Briony laughed. ‘Because I’m bleeding well freezing that’s why! Cissy never even bothered putting a fire up here today.’

‘I’ll warm you up, girl.’ He felt Briony consciously relax and stifled a sigh. It was always the same. She would allow him inside her, that was all. He felt an urge to bite her, make her feel something if only pain. As if she read his thoughts, she whispered to him. ‘I’m sorry, Tommy.’

The tiny voice was desolate and he pulled her to him, breathing in the mingled scents of soap and perfume.