Lying there in the six by eight cell, the silly encounter began to grow out of proportion in his mind. He began to see it as an affront to him as a man of means and position. He was Daniel Cavanagh. He and his brother were the undisputed Kings of London, the Big Boys. They were the two most feared individuals since Jack the Ripper, and that long streak of paralysed piss thought he would make out with him! The more he thought about it, the bigger the insult became in his mind.

Finally, he got up and walked from his cell. He marched along the landing kicking open cell doors and looking for the tall thin man who had not only invaded his personal space, but had also insulted his very manhood.

He found Gloria and Pearl sitting on their bunks. Gloria’s face shone hopefully at the sight of him, convinced he had changed his mind about the offer. This was soon proved wrong as Daniel dragged the screaming man from the cell and began to belabour him with a long leather belt, used with the buckle end for maximum effect.

Men came out of their cells to watch the drama being enacted. It broke up the day, added a charge to the sameness of their existence.

Later on the screws reported that Bernard Campion had been taken to the prison hospital after falling down the stairs from the top landing.

Such was life on remand at Wormwood Scrubs. It suited Daniel Cavanagh right down to the ground. It was just what he needed after his brother’s death and his own arrest. Somewhere he could still be the main man. Could sit out his time given the respect he deserved and expected, until such time as he was let loose on the world once more.

Limmington had taken the statements made by Heidi Thompkins to the Home Secretary himself. He wanted this done properly, without any mistakes whatsoever. The Home Secretary gave him the go ahead to arrest Briony Cavanagh and Thomas Lane for two murders. Heidi Thompkins was going to swear in a court of law that she was at the house where Bolger died and that she saw Briony Cavanagh and Thomas Lane put the gun to his head. She was going to swear also that she had been present when they had discussed the murder of Ronald Olds, how Tommy Lane had ripped his belly open with a double-bladed boning knife. As long as he kept her away from the Cavanaghs, off the drink, and promised her a good few pounds, she was as sweet as a nut.

Limmington stood now, in full view of the photographers and reporters, outside Bernadette Dowling’s house, the warrant for their arrest clutched firmly in his hand.

Cissy, with eyes red and swollen from crying, let him in. He walked into the drawing room with two officers, and was amazed by the number of people he saw.