‘Nah. Their gear was way out of my budget.’ He waved his hand dismissively and lifted his LIDL bag.

‘Did you see the flash mob?’

‘Not really. My front room looks out over the street. I had a quick look when I heard the music start and all the shouting. I can catch the corner of their shop from my gaff.’

‘What’s your name, buddy?’

‘Matt.’

‘Surname?’

‘Barker.’

‘We’ve got officers doing house-to-house inquiries. Have they interviewed you?’

‘Saw them coming, didn’t I? Didn’t answer the door.’ He grinned, pleased with himself.

As had lots of residents no doubt. ‘Did you see anyone going into the soup shop in the morning? Or leaving?’

Matt shook his head. ‘I don’t get up ’til late. I do a lot of my work at night.’

‘Seen anything suspicious or out-of-the-usual the last few days?’

‘Nah.’

‘Would you tell me if you had?’

‘Probably not.’ He grinned again.

Dan gave him a steely stare. ‘Well, aren’t you the epitome of neighbourly good feeling? Two people died in that fire. The owners have lost their livelihood, and two residents were taken to hospital in a critical condition.’

‘Oh. Right . . . ’ The glee disappeared from his face.

‘You heard of a website called LfA?’

‘Course. Everyone has.’

Dan threw him a dirty look. ‘What do you know about them?’

‘They organise street events. Flash mobs, pavement painting and stuff like that. Know what I mean?’ He winked.

‘No, buddy, I don’t. Care to fill me in?’

‘Look, I don’t want to get anyone in trouble or spread slander. I’m not sure they’re legit, that’s all. I’ve seen their guys hanging round youth clubs, chatting to the kids. Might be kosher but I don’t get that feeling.’

Dan saw that Maya’s antennae had zoomed in on the twenty-something lad. ‘Do they sell drugs?’

‘Bit of weed, maybe.’ Then added hastily, ‘Don’t know for sure, like.’

‘Do you know the names of any of the LfA guys?’

‘The one everyone knows is Frazer but he doesn’t go out recruiting. He gets his dogs to do that. Frazer just posts on the forum. Keyboard warrior, innit?’

Dan got out his notepad and wrote down the house number. ‘Matt Barker, you said. Contact details?’

*

Ten minutes later, they’d reached Sclater Street on the left. The building site that Matt was referring to was like bomb-wreckage. Buildings had been flattened. Red brick and render rubble lay in heaps. ‘I’ve never seen so much construction work.’ Dan’s head was on a permanent swivel.

They carried on walking.

Dan cast his eye up and down the street. All around them, cranes loomed like long-armed monsters stretching across the koala-grey Shoreditch skies. In every direction high-end flats were springing up, offered to anyone who could afford them, despite the fact that what the area desperately needed was affordable housing.