I was still of the view that Slack had a hand in what was happening, either alone or as part of a consortium of crime syndicates that had got together to fight back against the Met.

After all, across the various divisions we’d inflicted considerable damage on the London underworld during the past couple of years. It was therefore conceivable that they were now aiming to cause fear and panic within our ranks in an attempt to limit our effectiveness.

This was an issue we discussed among ourselves while waiting for Drummond and Tony Marsden to return. When they did, at just after eleven o’clock, they both wore sombre expressions. Drummond explained in heartbreaking detail what had happened in Clapham. How the killer had entered the shop and fired two bullets into Marion Nash’s chest while she stood behind the counter.

‘None of the people working in neighbouring premises heard gunfire,’ he said. ‘That suggests a silencer was used. We’ll know for sure if it was the same weapon after forensics have checked it.’

But there was no doubt in any of our minds that it would be the same gun.

‘There’s a single surveillance camera in the shop, but the killer took the digital video recorder with him,’ Drummond continued. ‘CCTV cameras in the street have still to be checked.’

DS Marsden then told us that Graham Nash had been taken to the crime scene at his own insistence. He had identified his wife and was now at home.

‘He’s obviously in a very bad way,’ Marsden said. ‘We’ve managed to contact their son, and Graham has a brother who’s flying in from Dublin as we speak.’

We were all far too shocked and exhausted to carry on working in any meaningful way so Drummond told us to go home and get some sleep. The office would be manned by a handful of support staff who were on the night shift.

But as soon as he finished speaking there came a further shock. It arrived in the form of another text message on the phones of all the detectives. And once again it made us realise that we had absolutely no control over the situation we found ourselves in.

Next time it could be you or someone you love. You know what you have to do to stay safe. And by the way, any officers assigned to protect you will themselves become targets.

32

Rosa

This time they returned to Alice’s apartment just before midnight. They’d spent the evening dancing and smooching at the Vichy Lounge, and not once did Rosa think about the assignment. Instead she gave into a passion that consumed every bit of her mind and body and left no room for anything else.

The pretty young Londoner had that effect on her. Rosa could not recall the last time she’d been with someone with whom she felt so compatible.