‘Why the call?’ Mickey allowed some of the irritation he was genuinely feeling to show. ‘Let me put it this way. Do you know how many people disappear in Greater London every year? I don’t mean wander off, stay lost for a while, tearful reunion, all ends well. I mean never seen again. Hundreds. One or two a day. Lost among the thousand or so calls a day regarding missing persons. And if you were one of them, the excitement over your loss would last for a week or two. Unless someone came across your body.’

‘You’re not trying to say th—’

‘Trust me, if Joe Castagna makes you disappear, you’re not going to be found. Not unless he wants you to be. And the time between you being taken and going into the cement wouldn’t be the happiest days of your life.’

‘He’d be arrested! The Clarion would know what I was doing, and where I was.’

He gave it a moment’s silence. A telephonic shrug.

‘Joe would just no comment the whole thing. He employs the best lawyers that money can buy. And there’d be no evidence. No trace of you. And, as the press would soon enough reveal, you wouldn’t be the first. Just the best known. Until the next one.’

The tone of her voice was different now. Less bullish. ‘So what are you telling me?’

Christ, how clear did he have to make it? ‘To stop covertly papping Joe Castagna. Sure, stand at his gate with the mob and take your pics. But for the love of God stop doing the undercover thing.’

‘I’ll think about it.’

‘You’ll think about it? Think hard, Ms Egerton, and think fast. Because this is the best warning you’ll get.’

‘And this warning. It’s from you, right? Not from anyone else? Not because he’s paying you? Not because you’re investigating him?’

He laughed. Not having considered that she’d suspect self-interest.

‘No. I’m not on Joe’s payroll. Although he will have cops in his pocket. I guarantee you that. And no, I’m not part of an investigation team. You know what I do for a living. Although I can’t guarantee there isn’t such an investigation in place.’

And then shut his mouth, pretty sure he’d said enough.

‘All right, I’ll do it. Stop doing it, I mean.’

Mickey opened his mouth to say good, but it was his turn to get chopped off before he could speak.

‘But there’s a price.’

‘A what? You want something from me for potentially saving your skin?’

‘An exclusive. Talk to me about what it’s like in there with the minister.’

‘Abso-fucking-lutely not.’

Her voice softened. ‘Off the record. Unattributable. Just colour, no operation detail.’