George raised the belt and brought it down hard on Carl’s back. He let out a muffled scream, then fell to the floor and curled up in a ball. George whipped him again and again across his back and legs, leaving him shaking and sobbing. When he’d finished, he looked down at Carl and sneered.

‘Take the money and get out of my flat. If I ever see your face again, I’ll kill you.’

He put his belt on and kicked Carl in the stomach, then ran his hands through his hair, brushed himself down and left the room.

*

George was at the bar speaking to Tommy and Smudge when Maureen came over.

‘I just seen Carl leavin’ in ’is car,’ she said, looking concerned.

‘That tart he brought to the wedding gave him the boot and he’s gone running after her.’

‘Fuckin’ bitch. Wait till I get me ’ands on ’er!’ Maureen snapped, her eyes filled with rage.

*

Teflon parked up outside Jane’s block of flats and got in the back of the cab with her.

‘Come on, stop beating yourself up about Carl.’

‘I can’t help it.’

‘Are you sure you’ve never seen Tony Nichols before?’

‘Nowhere I can think of.’

‘Like you said, he might be mistaken, but it does sound like he sussed you were Old Bill. You’re going to have to tell Murphy.’

‘I know.’

‘Granted he’ll be pissed off, but at the end of the day he chose to send you in there. What you did took a lot of guts.’

‘I feel like shit about what I’ve done to Carl. George Ripley’s used him as a punchbag for years. If he so much as thinks I’m a police officer, I dread to imagine what he might do to Carl.’

‘Look, I know it’s tough, but sometimes when you’re doing UC work, people on both sides get hurt. At the end of the day you were doing your job.’

‘That’s easy to say.’

‘You have to forget about Carl; think about why we’re doing this. We’re trying to put away some violent criminals. There’s going to be a few tears along the way.’

Chapter Thirty-Four

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Jane tossed and turned in her sleep, dreaming that she was walking through London Fields late at night, when suddenly a man in a stocking mask jumped down from a tree with a knife in his hand, and held it to her throat.

‘Don’t scream or I’ll cut your throat,’ he said, unzipping his trousers.

Terrified she was about to be raped, Jane kicked as hard as she could towards his groin, and the sudden jerking of her foot woke her up. Her heart was beating fast as she switched the light on, then went to the living room, picked up the phone and called Paul Lawrence.

‘I’m sorry to bother you, Paul . . .’