A shake of the head. ‘Not really. More like a box that I had to be seen to tick. He’s a protection officer, for one thing, so he wouldn’t want to risk—’

‘Protection? So he’s got access to guns?’

‘Not really. He has to sign them in and out. And besides, the Met doesn’t use .22s.’

Joe grunted, disappointed. ‘What about the card?’

‘Nothing useful forensically. And it could just be a smokescreen to cover up for an act of personal revenge.’ Felgate knowing the card would have been on Joe’s mind. A lot. One word, one symbol. His name, above a skull and crossbones. A threat. Direct and unmistakable.

‘So the investigation into the Margetson shooting revealed nothing. What about the car park?’

‘That got our attention, good and proper. Daily progress reports to ACC Frontline Crime. An entire MIT… sorry, Major Investigation Team. Twelve detectives led by a DCI. With his superintendent breathing down his neck.’

Joe skewered him with an exasperated look. ‘And? I didn’t ask you for the Heat magazine version. I couldn’t give a shit who’s trying to build their career on my blokes getting killed. All I want is a name. After which you can leave the rest to me.’

‘It’s early days. You can’t—’

‘Yes I can. You’re not seriously trying to tell me you lot don’t have anything?’

‘Close to it.’ Jason raised a hand to forestall another outburst. ‘The car he used came up a blank. No VIN, no traceability. Probably bought from a back-street dealer. And nobody’s going to put their hand up for that. Especially not with you involved.’

Joe nodded. His face telling Felgate that he liked the power implied by that fear, even as it frustrated him.

‘And your car was no better. Two bullet holes, both made by the same 9mm pistol. Fired by a twelve-year-old who picked up one of the dead men’s weapons. And that was all we got from the vehicle. Serious and Organised have been trying to trace the car’s ownership, by the way. Without any luck.’

A grunt. Joe expecting nothing less from Eddie. And disinclined to tell Jason how that one worked.

‘What else?’

‘CCTV footage from the first responders who passed it on the road gave us nothing either. He was wearing a cap, brim low. No facial pic. No DNA, no footprints. Whoever it was wore gloves and overshoes. Which the MIT suspect was the case in the Margetson killing too.’

Joe jumped on that point. ‘So there is a link?’

‘They think it’s possible. They’re working on the basis that this is someone with a serious grudge against you. That, or a rival moving in.’

Joe thought for a minute. ‘The list of men with a grudge against me probably isn’t all that short. There was no card this time?’

‘No. Which means the two may not be linked.’