Kotsev nodded. ‘Well, these people made a big name for themselves by offering security to businesses – for a monthly fee, you understand. Owners who refused to pay fell victim to repeated robberies. You would call it the protection racket. Now mutra daddies drive around in armed convoys, and the only way we can get rid of them is if one of their own does it for us. These people behave as if they’re living in a Hollywood movie. We have Anton “The Beak” and Vassil “The Scalp”. Until now, they have been untouchable.’

‘Why untouchable, Georgi?’

Kotsev tapped his nose. ‘Connections. It is said that some of our highest government officials owe their positions to an association with these gangsters. And now they’re in a difficult position. Our government wants to join the European Union. The European Union says we must get rid of our Mafia. “If the police are issuing traffic tickets but turning their backs on major organized crime,” they say, “it raises a question over how democratic your country is.” Would you agree?’

‘Well, yes.’

‘Dobre. There you have our problem. Sadly, if we don’t make progress in this area, it will delay our entry. A very big problem.’

‘I see.’

‘But, ah!’ said Kotsev, throwing out a hand. ‘Not such a problem, after all. Suddenly we have a miracle! And now, things are going our way.’

‘A miracle?’

‘In the past two years some of the most powerful Mafia bosses have been eliminated. One of them is shot leaving a casino after celebrating a victory by his football team. Another is gunned down with his bodyguards outside a bar. Sometimes, an entire family is murdered, as was often the case in blood feuds. All these killings appear to have been carried out by an expert shot. Perhaps more than one, we do not know. The suspects have never been caught, or even identified. The official theory concerns a war between rival gangs, who have employed hit men to do their dirty work.’

‘That sounds feasible.’

‘Yes, of course.’ He waited expectantly.

‘Are you suggesting the Zhivkos died in this way?’ asked Fry.

Kotsev spread his hands apologetically. ‘You understand there is much I can’t say.’

‘I’m too junior, is that it?’

‘My apologies, Sergeant. But, you see, the Zhivko brothers found themselves in the middle of all this. First on one side, as the agents of a leading mutra chief. Then, suddenly, they are on the losing side of the game. The Zhivkos are in danger of their lives, and they must leave the country. Yet even here, in Britain, they were not safe.’

Fry knew there was something else that he wasn’t telling her. His silence invited another question, if only she could work out what it was.

‘Wait a minute – you said that was the official theory. What’s the unofficial one?’