‘I don’t need you two cowboys coming here and suggesting plans! Get out of my sight! And if you think of squealing when I’m gone, remember I still have the video tape. I swear on my mother’s life that every newspaper in the country will get that film.’

Before Will could stop him, Liam had walked to the kitchen counter and grabbed a knife from a block. He advanced on Ormond, who backed away around the island in the centre of the room. Chaos erupted. Will felt as though he was moving in slow motion, begging Liam not to be stupid. Ormond was old and slow and he tripped over a stool.

Liam got to him first and lifted the blade, staring into Ormond’s terrified eyes. Then he brought it down. Ormond screamed over and over again, but as the blows rained down, he stopped making any sound at all.

Will couldn’t watch, and turned away, only looking back when the noise of flesh being ripped apart subsided and Liam sat panting on Ormond’s chest. He was covered in blood.

Will went to him and shook him.

‘Get up.’

Liam did what he was told. Will took the knife and threw it in the sink.

‘We have to tidy up. Get those clothes off.’

Liam came back to the present and stared at him. Then he nodded and started to undress. Will found black bags under the kitchen counter and shoved everything into one. Then he checked the ground floor and found a shower, directing Liam to it, making sure he left no bloody prints.

‘Get yourself clean.’

While Liam was showering, Will found cleaning products and a bucket and set about mopping up what he could and cleaning anything he could remember touching. With Ormond dead, they might just get away with this, he thought. But then reason kicked in and he knew that was an impossibility, though when the counter-corruption unit found out what the man had been up to, they’d realise that any number of people could have a motive to kill him.

A shadow crossed his mind and he realised that he’d never find the tape now, not without ripping the house apart.

He checked that Liam’s things were all in the bag, and that everything was clean. They could do nothing about the body. Moving it would leave too much transferrable evidence: he’d worked as a detective for long enough to know that. It was better to leave it where it was and hope Liam hadn’t passed any vital evidence on to it. He wasn’t cut, which was a miracle, and he’d been wearing standard high-street jeans and hoody. They hadn’t had a drink, they hadn’t been seen, and they’d parked far enough away to not be remembered.

Liam came back into the room naked.