She went on to describe what was happening as appalling and despicable, and she named all the victims, including Aidan.

She then commended what she said was the courage of the officers on the organised crime task force who had been directly threatened in the anonymous text messages.

‘Those detectives deserve our full support and respect for continuing to work despite the risks to themselves,’ she said.

After reading the statement she declined to take questions from reporters and went back inside her official residence.

Drummond then muted the sound and shook his head at the screen. His eyes were puffy and red, and his dark hair was uncombed. He suddenly looked much older than his forty-eight years and it was obvious that the pressure was getting to him.

I waited for him to say something, but he seemed lost in his thoughts so I cleared my throat to get his attention. When that didn’t work, I said, ‘Are you all right, guv?’

He snapped his head towards me, as though coming out of a trance.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Sorry. I was just thinking about the last time I saw the Commissioner. He came down here yesterday afternoon, sat exactly where you’re sitting now.’

Another shake of the head, and then he rubbed his face, as though trying to erase the stress.

‘Who’s in charge?’ I asked him. ‘I mean until a new Commissioner is appointed.’

‘The Assistant Commissioner, Geena Donaldson,’ he said. ‘She’s giving a press conference in an hour.’

‘A good choice,’ I said.

Drummond nodded. ‘In time she’ll probably get the job, but it won’t happen until this nightmare comes to an end. And none of us knows when that will be.’

After a beat, I said, ‘I’ve just been told that—’

I didn’t get to finish the sentence because Detective Gloria Stanford burst into the office at this point with news of a development. And it hit me for six.

‘We’ve had a call, sir,’ she said. ‘It’s about Roy Slack. He’s apparently been abducted.’

58

Slack

‘Who the fuck are you guys and what do you want with me?’

It was the same question he’d been asking for half an hour. But his abductors continued to ignore him.

There were three of them now, including the van driver. They stood together over by the big double doors, looking outside anxiously while talking to each other in whispers. He got the impression that they were almost as nervous as he was.

The tall one had put his gun back inside his leather jacket and had replaced it in his right hand with a cigarette, which he drew on every couple of seconds.

Slack watched them from the chair they’d tied him to using duct tape. His wrists were secured behind his back and his ankles to the front legs of the chair.