Her eyes dart to the other cabinets. Each man has bruises around the neck.

‘DS Quinn,’ she calls.

Quinn is behind her in a second. ‘Holy Jesus!’

‘This isn’t some weird artistic effigy. These men are dead. I know this one. His name is Billy. Billy Perrin. Call in for assistance. I’ll start moving this crowd back.’

Quinn calls through to Charing Cross as Archer tries to disperse the crowd. ‘Get back, please. This is a police matter.’

‘Help is on its way, ma’am,’ calls Quinn.

‘Forensics?’

‘On it already.’

For every four people Archer herds back, four more appear. ‘Mr Manly, until more police arrive I need you to help me move this crowd back.’

Manly sniffs, places his phone inside his jacket and tucks the clipboard under his arm. He points at the cabinets and waves his finger. ‘I am fuming. Those things should not be here. They are not what I was expecting!’ Manly has clearly not realised exactly what he has on display. Perhaps that is best for the moment.

‘Let’s deal with that later. Right now, please help me move the crowd back.’

With Manly’s help, Archer is able to put three feet of distance between the cabinets and the mob. She hears comments from the crowd: ‘They’re so realistic!’ says a woman. A man adds, ‘The detail is just extraordinary. Hats off to him. He has really exceeded expectations with this collection.’

A visceral scream makes Archer jump and she turns to see Billy Perrin’s girlfriend, Sharon Collins, push her way through the crowd. Her gaunt face is ashen and twists with horror and confusion as she runs toward the cabinet. Archer blocks her path.

‘Sharon, stop. There’s nothing you can do.’

The woman is thin and weak and struggles against Archer’s firm but gentle hold.

‘No. No. No, my Billy!’ she sobs.

Archer looks around for Manly but he has disappeared. Quinn is pushing back a pack of eager phone photographers. Behind her a new crowd has gathered around the cabinet containing Billy Perrin.

‘Hey! Move away from there,’ commands Archer. She sees Manly beside the cabinet and is shocked to see it rise suddenly.

‘Mr Manly!’

She can feel Sharon’s body tensing. ‘Sharon, please stay here. Let me deal with this.’

‘I can take her,’ comes a voice. Archer looks up to see The Connection director, Eula Higgins.

‘Thank you, Eula.’

As Eula comforts Sharon, Archer rushes forward, shoving aside anyone in her way. She sees Manly directing two men dressed like roadies. They are trying to tip the vitrine onto a small upright trolley.

‘Stop what you are doing! ’ shouts Archer.

‘Carry on, please,’ instructs Manly. ‘We have precious little time.’

‘This is a crime scene. Put that cabinet down.’

The two roadies stop, confusion in their eyes, as they look from Manly to Archer.

‘Put it back gently,’ orders Archer.