‘Mike!’ says Quinn.

The man called Mike second-glances Archer before looking over her shoulder.

‘DS Quinn, how are you?’ asks the man, his eyes flitting back to Archer.

‘Goodbye, Mike,’ replies the sergeant.

‘Anything you’d like to say on this matter, Harry?’

‘I just said it.’

The man’s staring unsettles Archer, but she focuses back on the job. Through the thinning crowd, she notices a second squad car pull up by the pavement. Two male officers step out of it, deep in conversation and in no particular hurry.

‘DS Quinn, could we get some help from those two?’

Quinn follows her gaze. ‘Oi! You two! Tape off this entire area. Make sure no one gets inside.’

Archer hears the click of a camera.

‘Get out of here, Mike,’ bellows Quinn.

‘Leaving now,’ he replies, retreating quickly. ‘I know when I’m not welcome.’

‘Who is he?’ asks Archer.

‘Mike Hamilton.’

‘The Daily Mail reporter?’

‘The same.’

‘You’re on first-name terms. Nice for you.’

‘He can be useful, when the time is right.’

‘A tabloid reporter isn’t what we need right now. Tell him not to publish those pictures.’

‘It’s a little late for that.’ He nods at the crowd watching from a distance. ‘This rabble’s pictures will have gone viral already.’

Of course they have, thinks Archer. ‘We need to get them taken down.’

‘That may take some time.’

‘Detective Inspector Archer?’

Archer turns to see a recovered Manly supported by one of the roadies waving at her from behind the tape.

‘DI Archer . . . thank you . . . I have a very important event to run today, so do you think we could please hurry along and remove these things?’ He swirls his hand at the cabinets.

Archer bites her tongue. ‘Mr Manly, did you take delivery of these cabinets?’

‘I certainly didn’t.’

‘Then who did?’

‘No one. They were here when I arrived.’

She feels Quinn standing behind her.

‘But you knew they were coming?’ asks Quinn.

Manly’s face pales. ‘I’m finished. Oh my God, I’m finished.’

‘Did you know the contents of these cabinets prior to their arrival?’ asks Archer.

‘No! That was part of the surprise.’

‘What surprise?’

‘The Mayor is supporting the work of up-and-coming artists. There are street exhibitions across the capital. There are sculptures of cows, snails and dogs appearing all over the streets of London.’

‘Who commissioned a dead persons’ exhibition?’ asks Quinn.

‘No one. I mean . . . someone, yes. But I didn’t know, I swear! He assured us his pieces would be the most talked about of the show.’

‘Who is he?’

‘He’s an up-and-coming artist. He calls himself Anonymous but spells it with an “@” sign for an “a”. It wasn’t meant to be an exhibition of dead people! It was something for the homeless.’

‘Have you met this artist?’ asks Quinn.

‘No, nobody has. He only communicates through different email addresses. He’s like Banksy – keeps his identity secret.’