‘Look, Pat, I’ll let you go with your sister. I must get back to work,’ Kate said.

‘I thought you were going to come to my house with me?’

‘I was, but now that you have your sister, I really feel I must get back to work.’

‘Will I see you tonight, Kate?’ His voice was so lonely and wretched she could not have refused him even if she had wanted to.

‘Yes, you’ll see me tonight. You come to my house, Patrick.’

She had a feeling he was better off away from home for a few hours at least.

George walked into Sexplosion on the evening of Mandy’s funeral. He was unaware of it, with more important things on his mind such as how he was going to get out of the blood testing. He had had the germ of an idea earlier in the day and now was about to sound out Tony Jones who was an integral part of it.

Tony smiled at him and took him through to the back room. George waited until the video was on before he spoke.

‘Does this girl die?’

‘Yeah. But they still do the business.’ Tony’s voice sounded bored.

‘I should imagine that films like this are illegal? I mean, can’t you get into trouble for stocking them?’

Tony Jones was alert now.

‘You can get in trouble for buying them and all, mate.’ His voice was annoyed.

George smiled.

‘I appreciate that, Tony, it was just a query, that’s all. Nothing to get worked up about.’

‘Look, do you want the film or not?’ George could hear the aggression in the man’s voice and knew that he was scared. He patted himself on the back.

‘Any chance of a drink, Tony? I have a proposition to put to you . . .’

‘What kind of proposition?’

‘A very lucrative one.’

Tony Jones licked his lips and stared hard at George for a few seconds.

‘What do you want? Beer or a short?’

George grinned. ‘I think a short is in order tonight, Tony.’

He waited until they were both sitting down, sipping their drinks, before he spoke.

‘I need someone to help me with something delicate. Someone who is completely trustworthy and in need of some money.’

‘What for?’ Tony Jones was intrigued.

‘I need someone to take a blood test for me. They would have to pretend to be me, in fact.’

George saw Tony Jones’s face drop. His mind was in a flutter. Blood test . . . blood test, where had he heard that? In the papers. He had read about it in the papers. George Markham came from Grantley in Essex! George Markham was the Grantley Ripper! George Markham had a half a million pound price on his head . . .

‘Fucking hell!’

George felt a prickle of fear.

‘You’re the bastard Ripper, ain’t you?’

George stared at the man and his fishy grey lifeless eyes sent a chill through Tony Jones. For the first time he was scared. He had let go his ace in his shock.