Priest scratched his head. A group of businessmen had entered the cafe and everyone around the entrance had begrudgingly moved up again, adding to the claustrophobic feel of the place.

‘Can you find out what you can about Julian Greenwood?’

Jack sucked his teeth. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’ He got up. ‘I have to go. I will need to call a board meeting immediately. Nice to meet you, Georgie. Charlie.’ He nodded at them both before making his way back across the crowded cafe to the door.

Priest took a sip of the Earl Grey; it was lukewarm and very sugary. He looked at Georgie. It had been a risk, telling her everything. The things that even Okoro didn’t know. But her sense of justice burnt strongly, and she was staring at him warmly. The risk had paid off.

‘How do you feel about all this?’ he asked her.

‘Like I missed a really important staff meeting at the start.’

Priest got up. ‘I’m sorry, but it had to be this way.’

‘I understand. Where are you going now?’

Priest glanced through the sea of coffee-drinkers and out of the window to Chancery Lane. The sun was out but it had begun to rain and people were scuttling into shops to avoid getting wet. Priest remembered the blue hair he had found at his flat and the look Jessica had given him before she had stormed out.

‘A personal errand,’ he declared. ‘Meanwhile, I want you to do some internet searching for me.’

Chapter 38

Chapter 38

The reception area of Ellinder Pharmaceuticals International (EPI) was a cavernous space overlooked by an open mezzanine floor and adorned with marble flooring and plush red furnishings. The reception desk puffed outwards in a semicircle and spanned the whole rear section in perfect symmetry. Foot-high letters embossed along the desk announced the name of the group. People milled around a cafe to the left of the reception desk, engrossed in laptops and tablets. The smell of disinfectant hung in the air.

EPI’s share price had crashed the week after the arrests the previous year, as news had filtered out that the head of the deadly secret society known as the House of Mayfly, and her closest partisan, both bore the name Ellinder. The group would forever be tainted by a dark stain. Jessica had picked the worst moment in the group’s history to take over as CEO. Slowly, a recovery was under way, underpinned by the sale of several overseas subsidiaries. A complete meltdown had been prevented, largely thanks to Jessica’s skilful diplomacy and some good fortune: enough high-profile individuals had been implicated in the Mayfly scandal to just about overshadow EPI’s association with what had happened.

While EPI had taken an horrific blow, the wound was apparently not fatal.

Priest approached the desk and a man in his twenties with shiny black hair and a pinched face lathered in orange-toned blusher smiled mechanically.