‘Right. That’s good enough for me. Get his name changed on the hospital records, and talk to his doctor, in the strictest confidence, understand? There must be no reports to the press on his progress. As far as the media are concerned, he’s still in a serious life-threatening condition, and we have no name for him. It must be believed that we do not know who he is – that’s vital.’ She paused. ‘And Joseph, I know you feel something of a personal responsibility for this boy, but you have to get some sleep yourself. We’d like to believe otherwise, but we’re only human.’

‘Speak for yourself, ma’am. I’m off to find his doctor.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

NIKKI TOOK THE information that Joseph had given her and went directly to the CID room. Within minutes the officers on duty had identified the correct property.

It was time to go visiting.

‘This is the description of your target, Sergeant. We have no name, just the tag of Fluke. We know the property is let, but the agency is closed and we can’t locate anyone to give us the name of the tenant.’

The uniformed sergeant nodded. ‘The armed unit should be with us in minutes, then we’ll go. I’ve held off scrambling the chopper. I think we’ll have enough personnel covering back and front, don’t you, ma’am?’

‘Yes. If this turns out to be bad information, the powers that be would probably hang me out to dry for wasting money on the helicopter as well as the firearms boys. We’ll rely on your troops on the ground, Sergeant.’

‘Very well, ma’am. Are you coming along?’

‘Try and stop me! I’ve been waiting to see this elusive villain for too long to miss out on this.’

It had only taken one swing of the heavy metal enforcer to shatter the front door of 9 Carson Villas.

‘Front room, clear, sir!’

‘Kitchen, clear!’

Men stormed through the property, checking room after room, and as each call came back of ‘clear’, Nikki’s hopes of finding Fluke sunk further and further.

‘Sir! Back bedroom! We have a white male, not responding!’

Nikki ran up the stairs two at a time.

In the small room, huddled on his side on the floor was a dark-haired youth. Drying blood was caked around his ear and in his hair, and had soaked down into the soft material of his hooded jacket.

She dropped down beside him and carefully felt the side of his neck with her fingers. ‘Get an ambulance! Quickly! There’s a faint pulse, but he needs help, and fast!’

From what she had seen on the police computer, the teenager oozing his life-blood into the cheap nylon carpet was Marcus Lee.