‘I was in that world a long time, Grace. You hear things. What I heard was that if the Dishonourables existed at all, they were a mixed bunch from a whole range of different regiments and backgrounds. Some had been drummed out of the forces for selling drugs. Others for using excessive violence and taking part in atrocities against the enemy, or occasionally civilians, in war zones like Afghanistan or Iraq. But what they all had in common was that they were the worst of the worst. Instead of the cream that rises to the top, these guys were the sludge that sinks to the bottom. They were comfortable doing the kind of things that suited them to the line of work the Dishonourables allegedly specialised in.’

‘What kind of work was that?’

‘Dirty deeds, done dirt cheap. Murder contracts. Intimidation. Extortion. Targeted robberies. Drug smuggling. Human trafficking. You name it. They’re said to travel all over the world, taking whatever jobs they can get their hands on, sometimes working together and sometimes alone. No rules, no limits. The story went that to be inducted into the brotherhood, first you had to satisfy the committee that you were the right stuff. Or the wrong stuff, depending on your point of view. Once you’d got through the basic selection process, then came the final test.’

‘Tell me about the test.’

‘You don’t want to hear it, Grace. Seriously.’

‘I’m asking.’

‘The test was to kill someone. The Dishonourables would single out a victim at random – man, woman, child, didn’t matter. The chosen target would be kidnapped and taken to a secret location, like an abandoned building or warehouse, where everyone would gather for the occasion. Then the prospective new recruit would have to murder them in front of the others, in a manner decided on by the group. Gun, knife, hammer, bat, strangulation, dismemberment, flaying, burning alive—’

Grace held up a hand and put the other over her mouth, as though she was going to throw up. ‘Stop. Please. I get the picture.’

‘I told you you didn’t want to hear it,’ Ben said. ‘The whole show was filmed on a camcorder and multiple copies stored in different safes, their own private collection of snuff movies. That way your fellow Dishonourables would always have a hold over you, in case you ever tried to rat on them. Like the mafia. Once you passed the test and got the ink, you were in for life.’

‘I’ve been a police officer for a long time. But I can still hardly believe things like this actually happen.’

‘What, that people could be so evil and warped?’ Ben said. ‘If you’d seen the things I have, you’d have no problem believing it. But as to whether the Dishonourables really existed or the whole thing was just a wild myth, I didn’t have an opinion until today. Now I have to believe it’s true.’