He went out to his car and began his journey to Barking. More bloody girl trouble, he supposed. Poxy Toms weren’t worth the hag half the time.

The trouble was bigger than he had ever expected.

As he walked through the dark-glassed door of his massage parlour in Barking, Kelly was amazed to see the girls all white-faced and quiet. He walked into the office where Karen, the head girl, was drinking a large brandy.

‘Is that my brandy you’re drinking?’

‘Oh, shut up, Pat. Come through.’

Karen’s voice was trembling and he followed her without question.

Karen took him to the cubicle area, big tears rolling down her face as she pointed to a curtained booth.

‘It’s in there, Pat. I can’t go in. I didn’t know what to do. I ain’t called the Old Bill, I just didn’t know what to do!’

Her voice was wretched. Willy had followed them inside and now Patrick motioned to him to open the curtain. Against his will he felt a prickle of fear.

Willy pulled the curtain open and both he and Patrick stared in amazement. Lying on the table was a girl. Her long blond hair was nearly touching the floor and her eyes were closed. If not for the impossible angle of her neck you would think she was sleeping. She was semi-naked. Her tiny cropped top was still in place though her breasts jutted from under it where it had been pulled over them. Her lower body was exposed and her legs were wide apart.

‘She’s dead, Pat. I found her like it. The bloke must have walked out the front door.’ Karen’s voice broke again.

‘What did he look like, Karen?’ Patrick shook her roughly. ‘Did you get a look at his boat?’

She shook her head. ‘No. They all look the same to me.’

‘Well, someone must have bloody seen him. Cover the poor little cow up, for Christ’s sake.’

He went to the front of the parlour. All the girls were in different stages of shock.

‘Did anyone see the bloke? Can anyone remember him?’

They shook their heads but an Asian girl spoke up.

‘I think he was the old bloke who came in this afternoon. That’s the last time I saw Gilly.’

‘What time this afternoon?’

‘At about one. One thirty.’

Patrick was stumped. He looked at his watch. ‘Do you mean she’s been lying there dead for over five hours? She’s been lying there dead, and you lot were doing the fucking business, and not one of you noticed she was gone?’

All the women stared at him.

‘What did he look like?’

The Asian girl thought. ‘I don’t know. About forty-eight, fifty. He had a beard . . .’