‘Well … they haven’t,’ Tucker admitted. ‘But when we were still the Manchester Robbery Squad, our unit was getting very close to them. It only seemed reasonable we should continue the enquiry after they broke us up. It’d be a feather in our cap if we could pull those bastards in. But it’s the same with this case you’ve brought us. I mean, we’re busy … but we can never be too busy at present, if you know what I mean. Got to justify our existence somehow. Anyway …’ Fleetingly, he seemed awkward, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say next. ‘You’ve done a lot of groundwork for us here. This is great, so thanks very much for that. I’ll keep you clued in, let you know how we get on.’

‘Thanks, sarge.’ Lucy couldn’t help wondering why he’d come downstairs to repeat DI Blake’s promise.

‘Hey, listen …’ He smiled again, which he seemed to do a lot – and why not, it was far from unattractive. ‘This is Robbery Squad. We don’t do titles. Call me “Danny”.’

‘I will … thanks.’

He headed back upstairs. Lucy watched him go for a teensy bit longer than she perhaps normally would, before turning and walking on down to CID.

Chapter 9

Ordinary Joe Lazenby didn’t particularly want to go home that evening.

Immediately after the incident in Hogarth’s Cocktail Lounge, he drove aimlessly around the town for perhaps an hour. All along of course, he’d known that there were higher powers in this world he’d infiltrated. Yet, things had gone so smoothly for so long that he’d begun to feel, perhaps not invincible, but certainly a master of his own destiny. During the working day, he headed up a relatively lowly admin department at Crowley Technical College. He earned a reasonable wage from it, and he was treated with civility and taken fairly seriously by the academics on campus, even if in truth he suspected that they thought him a jumped-up little jobsworth who was no more than a glorified paper-pusher. But he made an okay living. He owned a large detached house on Coxcombe Avenue, which was on the Cotely Barn estate on the edge of Crowley golf course, an affluent part of town; he drove a decent enough motor – a metallic beige Ford Galaxy; and he and his family went on a nice holiday once a year – cruising was the in-thing currently, and they’d so far done the Western Med, the Eastern Med, the Caribbean and next August they were looking forward to doing the Norwegian fjords. On the surface, everything was hunky-dory.

But in actual fact, this commonplaceness was the problem.