‘Then we should check it out. She’d have had this for a reason. It could be that she was booked into this hotel because of its proximity to the pub.’

We went back downstairs. By now more police had arrived, including detectives and uniforms from the local division who asked Drummond to put them in the picture. He did so in the back office while we all viewed the CCTV footage of Maria Rodriquez, or whatever her name was, on a monitor.

‘This was when she arrived at the hotel last Tuesday,’ the night manager said. ‘As you can see she was accompanied by a gentleman. He’s the one who made the reservation over the phone and popped in earlier that day to pay up front in cash for two weeks.’

The man was Danny Carver, and he stood to one side as the woman showed her passport and checked in.

The picture quality was excellent and so we had a very clear shot of her face. We got the manager to freeze it as she approached the desk.

Maria Rodriquez was indeed a looker and had a figure to match. She wore a leather jacket, torn jeans and a tight brown sweater, and I realised that her passport photo did not do her justice.

‘We have to make a decision,’ Drummond said. ‘Do we release this to the media or keep it to ourselves and wait here for her to show.’

‘We have to get it out there, guv,’ I said. ‘For one thing we can’t be sure she’ll come back here. And we don’t know if Slack will be tipped off by his mole, in which case she’ll be gone.’

He nodded. ‘I agree.’

He turned to one of the other detectives and told them to sort it.

‘I want a photo and video clip across every TV news bulletin as soon as possible,’ he said. ‘And see if we can get something in the late editions of the morning papers.’

After a quick conflab it was decided that forensics would move into room twenty-two, but that we’d maintain a low profile outside the hotel.

‘We watch and wait just in case she turns up,’ Drummond said.

Several armed officers were told to remain inside the hotel while others were instructed to take up discreet positions outside.

‘The rest of us are going down the pub,’ he added.

The Three Crowns was a typical London pub and looked as though it had been around for years. There were lights on inside even though it was almost one thirty on Monday morning.

The main entrance faced onto Kennington Lane and there was another entrance around the back. The team covered all bases before knocking on the door. They couldn’t take any chances because of the possibility that Maria Rodriquez was inside.