They made love there and then on the sofa, and even the sound from the TV did not lessen the intensity of the experience for Rosa. She lost herself in the moment and it seemed as if Alice did too.

It was as though they had been made for each other. The perfect fit. Two women who’d been destined to be together. Sharing something that was real and special and sublime.

Rosa knew now that she was going to do whatever it took to keep this perfect woman in her life.

She would lie and cheat and kill anyone who stood in her way.

It was time to accept that her life had changed because against all the odds she had fallen in love.

After making love they showered together and then drank more champagne.

It was going to Rosa’s head but she didn’t care. She was feeling better and happier than she’d felt in a long time.

There was an awkward moment when Alice drew her attention to the TV and said, ‘Have you seen this? It’s terrible. Another policeman has been murdered. The top guy this time. They say it’s that bitch who rides the motorbike and that she’s being paid to do it.’

‘I heard about it just before I left the hotel,’ Rosa said. ‘I didn’t realise that this was such a violent city. It’s like home from home.’

‘I think we should turn the television off so it doesn’t dampen our mood,’ Alice said.

Rosa nodded. ‘That’s a good idea.’

Alice replaced the rolling news bulletin with soft background music.

Rosa immediately relaxed again, and the rest of the evening was pure bliss. They drew up a list of the places they would visit the following day, including Buckingham Palace, Oxford Street and Trafalgar Square.

And then they went to bed early so that they could make love again.

Before she fell asleep, Rosa told herself that she had made the right call. This would be her last assignment as a contract killer. It was time The Slayer went into retirement and she embarked on a new and more rewarding life.

53

Slack

He was well and truly pissed. During the course of the evening he’d put away half a bottle of Glenfiddich and three glasses of one of his finest wines.

It was enough to make his doctor have a seizure because of the strong links between alcohol abuse and pancreatic cancer.

But what better way to celebrate the death of the Met’s top dog? The biggest cunt of them all. The leader of the pack. The man responsible for setting up the organised crime task force.