‘That’s an odd statement. I don’t work with any dirty officers.’

Jackson laughed. ‘You’re clean. That’s nice. I could talk to you but I might suffer a nasty accident.’

‘So you’re telling me that you’re in contact with what you call “dirty officers” and that if you talked to me and told me the truth, your life would be in danger? From whom?’ Kelly remained calm, but what she heard terrified her. She sensed that Rob was struggling to keep quiet next to her.

‘Both sides, man.’

Kelly let the Americanism go. All these young studs spoke the same. She found it sad, but expected. She just wished that the Caribbean twang wasn’t so wrapped up with bravado and status amongst young men.

‘Rival gangs?’ She knew that wasn’t what he meant. He shook his head.

‘They might as well be,’ he said.

‘DC Shawcross.’ Kelly turned to Rob, and he opened his Toughpad and showed the images to Jackson. The young man swallowed. Kelly admired his mettle: it was obvious that he was used to playing a dangerous game of poker with his knowledge and choices. Despite his age, he reminded her of seasoned criminal informants she’d worked with in London. ‘That’s you and the two officers who were here last night, isn’t it?’

Jackson nodded. ‘You wired?’

‘No, that’s for the movies. It wouldn’t be admissible in court and frankly we haven’t got the money. How long have you been meeting with the two officers?’

‘Years, man.’

‘Why?’

‘Whatever they want.’

‘Such as?’

He blew through his lips, sat back and spread his hands. ‘Names, places, deals, gear.’

‘Gear?’

‘You know, where stuff’s kept when it’s hot.’

‘Drugs? Money? People?’

‘Anything.’

‘And what do you get out of it?’

Jackson raised his eyebrows. ‘You think I benefit from this? They just leave me alone.’

‘But you’ve got no record; what could they possibly have on you?’

‘They can plant whatever they like. I wouldn’t stand a chance.’

‘That doesn’t happen in the force. It might—’

‘Are you for real? What fuckin’ planet you on?’

‘I wouldn’t go down that path, fella.’ Rob sat up taller.

Jackson looked at him. ‘I ain’t being rude, but you bare stupid to think anyone has choices here. I survive.’

‘Maybe it’s time you changed sides.’

‘Maybe, innit.’

‘Did you have anything to do with the murders of Ella Watson or Keira Bradley?’

‘No.’

‘Do you know who did?’

‘Yes.’

Chapter 33