‘Who is it?’ she yelled at the front door, then clutched at her head. Shouldn’t have done that.

‘Oh come on! For fuck’s sake open the door!’

It wasn’t a voice she knew. Angel opened the door and stared at the very pretty woman who stood there. She was dark-haired, olive-skinned, hard and angry about the eyes. She wore a slash of crimson lipstick. A tan leather jacket with a thick fur collar and cuffs. She clutched a Chanel quilted bag and was wearing high-heeled tan boots beneath a swirling chocolate-brown dirndl skirt. She stared right back at Angel, then surged forward, into the hall while Angel stood there, still holding the door.

The woman spun on her heel and eyed Angel up. ‘What are you, the help?’ Then she stepped back. ‘Wait, you’re her, aintcha? You’re Angel.’

Angel squinted at her. ‘Yeah, I’m Angel. Who the hell are you?’

The woman didn’t answer that. She looked around the bare, echoing hallway in clear agitation. ‘Where’s Lenny? What’s going on?’

‘I said, who are you?’

‘I’m Letitia. A very old friend of Lenny’s. I just got back from Marbella. We were all expecting him out there, actually. But he didn’t show.’

Lenny was always shooting off here and there on ‘business’. Angel hadn’t been told anything about a planned trip to Marbella. Lenny rarely kept her in the loop about anything. Now, she was beginning to understand why.

Angel pushed the door closed and leaned against it. ‘Lenny didn’t show because he’s banged up,’ she said.

The woman stared at her in shock. ‘He’s what?’

‘In Wandsworth. Apparently he’s been money laundering. On a big scale.’

‘Christ, I’ve got to sit down,’ said Letitia, and she did look genuinely shaken.

Angel led the way into the kitchen and Letitia pulled up a bar stool. Angel put the kettle on, and looked at Letitia.

‘How do you know Lenny?’ Angel asked her.

‘What? Oh – we’ve been touching base for years, him and me.’

‘What, are you one of his “couriers”?’

‘No I am not.’

‘Because if you are, I should fuck off back to Marbs if I was you. The police are sniffing around.’

‘I’m not a bloody courier,’ sniffed Letitia as the kettle started to boil. ‘Len and me have been an item for a long, long time. And . . .’ her voice trailed away.

Angel’s eyes narrowed. The woman looked really distraught. An item?

‘Oh come on. You can’t be surprised. Lenny was never the faithful type.’ Letitia let out a sad little laugh. ‘Not even to me.’

Angel’s mouth had dropped open.

‘Don’t look so shocked,’ said Letitia. ‘Gawd, I’m the one who’s had a nasty surprise. Poor Len, locked away.’ Letitia looked Angel square in the eye. ‘We had plans, him and me. You might think you’re the bees’ knees, the wife, but he was going to leave you and he was going to be with me.’

The kettle came to the boil and Angel felt her temper boiling up, right along with it. Lenny had been planning to kick her to the kerb, and go live happy ever after with this bitch.