‘Thanks, Suzanne,’ Maya said. ‘Yes, we have some worrying developments and urgently need the public’s help with these.’ Maya looked straight into the camera. ‘Yesterday’s fire in Brick Lane was caused deliberately, and resulted in the death of two members of our community. This is now a double murder investigation. It is vital that we speak to anyone who has information about who might be responsible, but hasn’t yet come forward. I would also like to appeal again to anyone who captured video footage of the flash mob or the arson attack. If that’s you, please get in touch.’ The screen displayed the contact details for the incident room. ‘We also need to speak to anyone who has recently been approached about joining local protests or flash mobs, either online or at local youth clubs and community centres. We know that people have been offered masks with logos like these.’

The screen showed a computer artist’s representation of the black masks with the LfA logo.

‘It’s important to stress that some of these protests are made to sound innocent and fun, but we strongly suspect that some of them are a front for very serious crimes, and we need your help to keep you and your children safe.’ Maya paused. ‘We wish to speak to this man in connection with the arson and need help with finding him.’

At the bottom of the screen, portrait and profile shots of Kenny Hayes appeared.

‘Kenny Hayes is British, approximately forty years old, six feet three, thin build, and has a distinctive tattoo on his neck. Mr Hayes’ last known address was in Manchester and he has connections in Scotland. He has a string of convictions and arrests for violent offences and is believed to be extremely dangerous. We are appealing to the public for information as we strongly suspect he is involving children as young as ten in serious criminal offences.’

The screen showed a bullet point summary of the key request areas and the segment closed with the police contact numbers.

‘Nice one,’ Dan said, and rubbed his hands together. Maya wasn’t the sort to give up easily and he respected that. ‘Let’s hope those phones start ringing.’

Dan, 3 p.m.

Dan, 3 p.m.

It was early afternoon when Dan and Maya arrived in Limehouse to speak to Ali.

‘Rima’s either here or on her way.’ Dan checked the time on his phone. ‘It certainly makes me suspicious that Sophie Williams contradicted Ali’s account of when he arrived. Shall we knock? Maybe Rima’s gone in.’

A stocky, middle-aged man opened the front door of the Georgian house, and Vivaldi bounced into pretty York Square. Concern shot over the man’s face when he saw Dan and Maya, and he held the door close to his body.