‘Brand-new shirt with creases from the packet, deodorant and razor laid out. Is it for Sam, or are you playing away with the gorgeous Rev Matt Cleaver?’

Gillard rinsed, then dried his mouth with a paper towel. He was used to DC Hoskins’ good-natured insubordination, but had no intention of giving any extra information to the rumour mill.

‘That’s very funny, Carl. So how is the new diet going?’

He waggled his hand sceptically. ‘It’s fine for breakfast and grabbing a bite during the day. My daughter Diane has been making me fruit salads to bring in. Trouble is they don’t fill you up, and by teatime I’m gagging for something with a bit of grease. Last night she cooked me some pasta with low-fat cream cheese.’

‘Sounds like she’s looking after you.’

‘Yeah, but then after a couple of jars down the Three Feathers I couldn’t resist a doner kebab.’

Gillard chuckled. ‘Kebabs are the ultimate crime against the human gut.’

‘Not to mention the stabbings and punch-ups at the shops at pub throwing-out time.’

‘And the money laundering.’

‘Y’know,’ Hoskins said, ‘I’ve forgotten the number of times I’ve woken up in the morning still in my suit, and wondering how just three or four pints gave me such a cracking hangover. Finding the shredded cabbage in my trouser turn-ups and hot sauce on my lapels is the giveaway.’

‘Well, Carl, you’re still living a misspent middle age.’ Gillard collected together his toiletries, quickly grimaced in the mirror, and left.

The restaurant Stella had chosen was small and intimate, hidden above a convenience store. He was five minutes early, and was shown to the secluded table she had booked. From the dark recesses of the booth it was possible to see the entrance without being seen. From that shrewd choice of table, it was clear she had been here before. There was a steady trickle of takeaway customers at the bar, but back here they certainly wouldn’t be overheard.

The detective chief superintendent arrived exactly on time, in dark trouser suit, heels and a white embroidered blouse. Her big hazel eyes and fine cheekbones were subtly made up and she looked pretty damn good, almost too good just for a meeting at the Serious Fraud Office.

After briefly greeting him, she said, ‘Let’s order immediately. I’ve got to be in and out in an hour for the next train.’ They chose the mixed sushi and sashimi set order, which came with a salad and miso soup, and fizzy water to drink.

As the menus were taken away, Gillard asked, ‘So when is the raid?’

‘Tomorrow morning. Fifty officers, full forensic accounting team.’

‘I do wish you’d been able to keep us in the loop from the start.’

‘Well, we had information that there was a mole in Surrey Police.’

Gillard was astounded. ‘Not in my team.’