But then Spyros was an unusual name. And that contract on his head… there were plenty of people chasing after that. And those scars… Sharon had never been a big one for coincidences.

If she was an undercover cop, then what exactly was she doing here? If she was an undercover cop… well, that offered up a whole realm of delicious possibilities, the prospect of which filled her with relish. She could think of plenty of people who would be very interested in knowing that kind of information. All for a price, naturally.

It would require a little more probing of course, just to be certain. A little more teasing and tormenting to worm open those cracks in the facade that she was so diligently trying to maintain. And then Sharon would have her trapped like a fish on a hook, ready to reel in at her leisure.

But Bailey would have to wait for the time being. Today Sharon had a slightly bigger and more immediate fish to fry. She glanced at her watch and quickened her pace, keen to get to the rendezvous point ahead of time.

Pushing open the door to the canteen, she stood there motionless for a few moments, glancing around at the empty tables and then up at the CCTV camera fixed to its bracket directly above her. She pressed herself up against the wall, keeping within the blind spot of the camera, and edged along until she reached the door to the prison kitchen. Easing it open, she slipped inside, relieved to be in a camera-free zone.

Just like the canteen, the kitchen was silent and deserted. The hobs were cold. All the pots and pans were hanging up on the rails. The extractor fans were silent. The stainless-steel work surfaces were scrubbed clean, ready for the next set of meals to be prepared.

The inmates ate breakfast in their cells, having received a breakfast pack the night before with their evening meal, and so lunch was the first meal of the day to be prepared in the kitchen. Sharon knew they wouldn’t start making lunch until 10.30 and that gave her a good forty-five minutes or so until anyone would begin to turn up here, more than enough time for what she needed to do.

Sharon spent several hours each day working in the kitchen. That’s why she knew the schedule so well. She worked there because it meant the added wage put a little more money into her canteen account, enabling her to buy extra goodies each week. But also, occasionally, she liked to slip laxatives into the inmates’ food just for a laugh.

She had chosen the kitchen as a meeting point because she knew it would be empty at this time of day. For a sensitive issue such as the business she was about to conduct, a little privacy was likely to be necessary.

She looked at her watch. The person she was due to meet would be here in just a few minutes’ time. Leaning against the counter top, she crossed her arms, carefully adjusting her poise so she looked composed and self-assured. She always liked to be early to meetings; she felt it gave her the psychological upper hand in any subsequent ‘negotiations’.