Peter and Daniel Bailey were both very quiet as they drove into the scrapyard.

Peter hadn’t seen the renovations to the Portakabins and he was very impressed with the new offices; no one would ever imagine that they were as old as the hills. They had been refitted so well the whole fucking place looked brand new – no way would anyone believe that a gruesome murder had occurred there recently.

‘Fucking hell, Dan, these look better than the offices at Canary Wharf!’

Daniel laughed. ‘I told you – he’s good, the kid, and do you know what, Pete? He wouldn’t take a fucking bean off me. He said it was payment for us looking after his old man while he was away. I tell you, I was choked.’

Peter was relieved; no forensic lab in the world would find anything remotely sinister here. The boy knew his job – the only thing left of the original building was the fucking outer shell, and that was probably just because his brother had insisted it be kept. As far as Daniel was concerned, nothing had really changed – he still wanted his security and who could blame him?

‘So, Daniel, what do you think this is about?’

Daniel shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Peter. My Danny asked to meet us here, just us two. That is all I know.’ He could sense the worry coming off his brother in waves. ‘You all right, Pete?’

Peter nodded, but he couldn’t fool his brother. He feared what was coming, and he was powerless to prevent it.

Daniel poured them each a drink and, handing his brother his whisky, he said quietly, ‘You know, Peter, that no matter what happens, I won’t be taking any prisoners.’

Peter nodded, but he didn’t speak. He couldn’t.

Danny arrived twenty minutes later and, as he looked at his dad and his uncle, he wished with all his heart that he was not the bearer of such bad news. He had no option – this had to be sorted, no matter what the consequences. But it was still a very hard thing to do.

Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Three

‘Is it anyone we know, Tania?’

Ria was as shocked as her mother-in-law at the news. Theresa had insisted on her presence – she had been adamant, in fact. Ria was glad she was here; Lena would have wanted her to look out for her daughter.

Tania was still not saying a word to anyone about who was responsible for her predicament. Theresa had hoped that Tania might have opened up to her. She had an inkling of who the father was but she wanted proof, so she could make her grandson pay for this; she wanted him to be exposed, even though she knew it would cause ructions.