William had never seen Ross looking so relaxed and happy. The fashionable new suit, white shirt and even the cufflinks, complemented by a red carnation in his buttonhole, would have come as a surprise to the denizens of the underworld among whom he had mingled for so many years. None of whom had been invited to the wedding.

When the registrar solemnly asked, ‘If any person present knows of any lawful impediment to this marriage, he or she should declare it now,’ Beth gripped William’s hand. He knew she was remembering how Miles Faulkner had crudely attempted to ruin their wedding day, and how Christina had come to their rescue.

No one raised a voice on this occasion.

William couldn’t resist a smile as they took their vows. He still hadn’t got used to one of the toughest men he’d ever come across being so hopelessly in love.

A warm round of applause broke out when the registrar announced, ‘It gives me great pleasure to declare that you are now legally married. You may kiss the bride.’

Mr and Mrs Hogan kissed each other for the first time.

‘I’m hungry,’ whispered William.

‘Patience. We’ve been invited to lunch at the Marylebone Hotel after the service.’

‘I can’t wait. I haven’t had a good meal for weeks.’

Beth kicked him sharply on the ankle and he let out an exaggerated yelp.

The wedding party followed the bride and groom out of the room, down the Old Town Hall steps and onto the pavement. William held Beth’s hand as they crossed Marylebone Road and headed for the hotel.

A man seated at the bus stop on the opposite side of the road was writing down the names of everyone he recognized. Only three of the guests were unknown to him. He took a closer look at the bride and groom, and wondered if Hogan realized he’d married a call girl. In any case, he’d be informing his employer immediately that the overpaid tart could no longer be relied on. Then he spotted DS Roycroft. Was she also no longer to be trusted? Had the information she’d been passing on to him already been vetted by Warwick? He’d have to assume the worst, while trying to turn it to his advantage. He would place the blame for any false information on the whore, and then take credit for exposing her. That would guarantee he didn’t lose his only source of income.

Lamont didn’t move as the wedding party drifted in the direction of a nearby hotel. Once they were all out of sight, he stepped inside the nearest phone box, dialled a number and waited.

‘Fetter Lane chambers,’ said a voice on the other end of the line. ‘How may I help you?’

‘I need to speak to Mr Booth Watson – urgently.’

• • •

‘What a spread,’ said William, joining the queue at the buffet table.

‘Remember you’re trying to lose a couple of pounds,’ said Beth.

William ignored her protestations and piled his plate with coronation chicken, tomatoes and salad, before moving on to the other end of the table, where he filled any empty spaces with ham, cheese and new potatoes.