‘Thanks, but I’ll go home. It would be better under our own roof . . . for Nathan as well.’

‘Forgiveness is never easy, but I know you’ll work things out. Tony’s a good man and he loves you both dearly.’

‘I know, and I love him.’

‘Let me know how it goes.’

Jane started to leave the room.

‘I love you as well, Jane. I know I can be a silly cow at times, but I really appreciate what you’ve done for Tony and the advice you’ve given us.’

‘That’s what sisters do, Pam – they help each other through thick and thin.’

*

It was a fresh, sunny spring morning as Jane parked her car in a back street near Brick Lane, famous for its array of Jewish, Bangladeshi and Indian restaurants and its Sunday flea market. As she crossed Bethnal Green Road she saw the Colonel walking towards her, and couldn’t help letting out a big yawn.

‘You look like you’ve been up all night,’ he remarked.

‘I have,’ she replied, yawning again.

‘Then a nice hot coffee and a salt beef bagel is what you need to wake you up.’

‘I’ve got to be back at Rigg for nine to meet Teflon and take Fiona Simpson up to the Yard.’

‘It’s only half seven – we’ve got plenty of time.’

‘All right then . . . I haven’t had a salt beef bagel in ages, and a black coffee wouldn’t go amiss.’

As they walked down Brick Lane, some vendors were still setting up their stalls with second-hand goods and putting price tags on them. As they approached the busy Jewish cafe, the smell of salt beef filled the air. They found a free table in the corner.

‘My treat,’ he said, and went to the counter.

Jane saw him get a brown envelope out of his pocket and tear it open. He removed two ten-pound notes, handed one to the waitress, and put the other in his wallet. As he did so, she remembered Murphy saying he’d authorised twenty pounds out of the informants’ fund for the Colonel’s “snout”.

‘There you go.’ He put her food and drink down on the table.

‘Can you tell me anything about the informant we’re going to meet?’

‘His name’s Gentleman Jim, he’s done time for armed robbery and now he’s out he sells antiques in the flea market,’ he said brusquely.

‘Why’s he called Gentleman Jim?’

The Colonel laughed. ‘’Cause he was always polite when he robbed a bank . . .’ He put on a posh voice. ‘“Please don’t press the alarm, and I’d be very grateful if you’d be so kind as to put the money in the bag.” Then, having scared the shit out of the bank staff with a gun, he’d say “Toodle pip” before leaving.’

‘What were the rest of the gang like?’