Fry was early for the briefing next morning. The room filled up around her, but she let the increasing level of noise wash over her. When Cooper arrived, he looked flustered and dishevelled, as if he’d only just got out of bed. But that was his normal style. His hair fell untidily across his forehead, there was a scuff mark on his jacket, and his tie needed straightening, as usual. Casual was OK, but on Cooper it made him look disorganized. She had an urge to tell him to tidy himself up before he met the public. Most of all, she couldn’t help reflecting on the contrast between Cooper and Georgi Kotsev.

The divisional commander, Chief uperintendent Jepson, had made an appearance to greet Sergeant Kotsev.

‘I’ve emailed Captain Pirinski to thank him for loaning your services, Sergeant. It shows a very positive attitude on the part of the Bulgarian authorities.’

Kotsev shook his hand. ‘Thank you, sir.’

‘I’m very glad you came. It’s so useful to have a translator; not to mention your experience in the field of cross-border organized crime.’

‘I’m pleased to help.’

The Chief Super took DCI Kessen aside and put a hand on his shoulder.

‘Special Branch and C Division are taking the Zhivko bombing – it’s their pigeon, after all. But they’ll liaise with us on any connections to Rose Shepherd or Simon Nichols.’

‘Very good, sir.’

‘It’s the best way, Oliver.’

‘Yes, I know.’

When he took the floor at the briefing, Kotsev turned out to be an excellent speaker, showing no signs of nervousness. He’d obviously had practice at presentations, and his almost perfect English and smart appearance commanded attention, even from this jaded bunch.

‘First a little background,’ he said. ‘Your colleague Sergeant Fry assures me that not all of you are experts on Bulgarian history.’

Behind him, the chief superintendent chuckled, and almost seemed about to nudge Kessen to share the joke.

‘In the last fifteen years, organized crime has thrived in Bulgaria, its influence reaching all parts of our society. Sadly, the state apparatus has been too weak to deal with this problem. Too corrupt also, you might say. But no longer. Now, anti-corruption is a byword in our ministries.’

Kotsev paused and looked around the room. Fry wondered if he’d made another joke. But even the chief super didn’t get it this time.

‘You’re talking about a kind of Mafia, Sergeant?’ prompted someone.