‘That’s bollocks and you know it!’ Lee’s argument was born out of the sheer frustration at being left out of the loop and being unsupported, as he saw it, by his senior officer. Mason lowered his tone into a forced whisper before he continued. ‘We’re responsible for the death of Jacob Mulhern. And I don’t mean the police force, Eamonn, I mean me and you. We left him to uniform when we should have been all over it ourselves.’ Mason watched Lee’s nostrils flare and his cheek muscles twitch. He was angry because he knew Mason was right and that hurt like hell. ‘I don’t give a fuck whether you like Jack Warr or not,’ Mason continued. ‘He’s right about the handling of Charlotte. You should see her, Eamonn, she’s putty in his hands.’

‘And what about you, Colin? Are you putty in his hands too?’

As Lee stormed from the canteen, he didn’t notice Bevan sitting with her back to the table he’d just left. Nor did Mason. She got out her mobile and texted Jack on his burner:

We may have a problem.

*

Ridley wore a pair of classic blue jeans, a pale blue T-shirt, black trainers and a black leather jacket. He was so close to looking cool, but somehow couldn’t quite pull it off. Perhaps because he just didn’t feel comfortable. As a man who normally dressed immaculately in a perfectly fitted suit, Ridley now felt very under-dressed sitting in the lounge bar of the Franklin Hotel in Egerton Gardens.

‘You said we were meeting in a caff opposite the emporium!’ Ridley looked Jack up and down. He knew the cost of the clothes Jack was wearing. ‘And don’t even try to put that lot on expenses!’