‘Then someone else must have carried out the killings on his behalf,’ said Ross.

‘We think he employs a professional hitman, but I haven’t come up with a name yet.’

‘There still have to be three bodies out there somewhere.’

‘I know,’ said Paul. ‘But where?’

‘Find one of them,’ said William, ‘and you can be sure the other two will turn up.’

‘Any leads?’ asked the commander.

‘The wife of one of the missing victims recorded a telephone conversation between her husband and Sleeman, in which he more than hints at what will happen to him if he misses another payment. I’m seeing her later this week.’

‘Courageous lady,’ said William. ‘But will she be willing to appear in court?’ he added, before turning his attention to DC Pankhurst. ‘What have you got for us, Rebecca?’

‘Darren Carter, a bouncer at the Eve Club, a sleazy establishment in Soho. He killed a customer with a single blow. Claimed it was the victim who threw the first punch. When it came to court he produced several witnesses to back up his story. It later turned out that the dead man was having an affair with the wife of the club’s owner. However, that piece of evidence wasn’t even raised during the trial. The defence counsel argued in camera that it was prejudicial and circumstantial, and the judge agreed. Carter pleaded guilty to manslaughter, served one year of a two-year sentence, and is now back working at the club.’

‘I want that club closed down,’ said The Hawk, ‘and Carter locked up for life, so we send out a clear message to every other sleazy club owner in Soho.’

‘I’ve got one lead,’ said Rebecca, ‘but I can’t pretend I’m optimistic about my source’s evidence being substantial, reliable or compelling.’

‘What a right bunch of villains,’ said William. ‘And with one exception, they were all defended by our old adversary, Mr Booth Watson, QC.’

‘Let me guess,’ said Paul. ‘For professional reasons he felt unable to represent both the Roaches and the Abbotts.’

‘The Abbotts keep him on retainer,’ said William.

‘Perhaps someone should kill Booth Watson and solve all our problems,’ suggested Ross.

The banging of palms on the table lasted for some time.

• • •

‘What can I get you, Ross?’ asked William.

‘Half a pint of bitter please, guv. Any more and I’ll fall asleep and be unable to keep up with your bright young turks.’

‘I’m very fortunate,’ said William, looking across at the rest of his team, who were sharing a joke. ‘They’re the new breed of professional coppers who don’t believe in cutting corners or winging it. They prefer to rely on solid evidence before making an arrest, rather than jumping to conclusions that won’t later stand up in court.’

‘I look forward to working with them,’ said Ross, ‘though I’ve already experienced what they’re like first-hand when I was working undercover. You included.’

‘Creepy,’ said William. He took a sip of beer before saying, ‘You mentioned during the morning session that you might be able to help me with my unpaid overtime job of attempting to track down Faulkner and put him back in jail.’