The logical part of his brain reminded him that Kelly had never been convicted of anything, that he had every right to be in a police station. But his gut told him it was dangerous to be professionally associated with Kelly at the station. They met socially, as many police and villains did - that was part and parcel of everyday life. They were masons, they were both members of the same clubs. They both socialised regularly with the local MP. But all the same, to have him here, in his office, in front of all his staff . . . Suppose he called him Freddie?

‘Sir, can I send up Mr Kelly and Mr Gabney?’ ‘Oh yes, yes, Janet. Show them up please.’

The worst thing was, there was no way he could refuse to see him.

Flowers opened a drawer in his desk and took out a small packet of Settlers; he popped two into his mouth and chewed them noisily while he waited for Kelly.

Why couldn’t he just see him at the club as usual? What was important enough to bring him here?

By the time Janet showed the two men into his office, Flowers had calmed down, but as she shut the door behind her the sourness returned to Flowers’s face.

‘Have you gone mad? Coming here like this? Do you realise I have got the press practically camped out on the doorstep? Why couldn’t you have seen me as usual in the club?’

Kelly looked at the tall greying man in front of him. He guessed that he and Flowers were of an age. But dissatisfaction with his life had aged Flowers. He had a large paunch that he tried to hold in with a corset and he dyed his hair. All in all, Kelly thought that Flowers was a silly, vain man and he disliked him immensely.

His voice dripped ice.

‘Are you taking the piss out of me?’

Flowers blinked rapidly as Kelly stared him out.

Patrick pointed a stiff finger at Flowers and enjoyed seeing the man flinch.

‘In case it escaped your notice, Freddie,’ he spoke the man’s Christian name with contempt, ‘my daughter was murdered recently. I know the news reached you like, ’cause I can remember mentioning it to you myself on several occasions.’ The sarcasm was not lost on Flowers or Willy.

Patrick sat down and his minder followed suit. Flowers returned to his seat behind his desk. He had dropped a clanger and knew it. But he was relieved. If the press got wind of who Kelly was, then the fact that his daughter was one of the victims would cover up the fact that he and the Chief Constable met socially.

‘I’m sorry, Patrick, but this place is literally under siege at the moment.’

‘And you’ve missed your golf as well? My heart’s breaking for you.’