‘Roy Slack can best be described as a tyrant who presides over this country’s biggest criminal enterprise,’ I explained. ‘He’s the closest we have to the old Mafia godfathers.’

Aidan didn’t want a detailed character assessment of the man, just the lurid headlines. So that was what I gave him.

‘Slack’s whole life has been spent as a criminal but would you believe the bastard has never seen the inside of a prison cell?’ I said. ‘He’s got a hand in every illicit pie across Central and South London. That includes drugs, extortion, fraud, prostitution, porn, money laundering – the lot.

‘He’s been the subject of intense investigations by the NCA and before them the Serious Organised Crime Agency. But he’s kept a clean sheet, thanks to witness intimidation, bent coppers and by being more careful than any other villain out there. And he’s still going from strength to strength after more than a decade at the top of his game. We now know that he’s even established strong links with a notorious Mexican cartel that’s flooding the whole of Europe with cocaine and heroin.’

‘He sounds like quite a guy,’ Aidan said. ‘But you’d never guess it from the photos I’ve seen on the web. He looks like a kindly uncle who’s ageing before his time.’

‘Well, over the years a lot of people have learned to their cost that his appearance can be more than a little deceiving. He’s a vicious bastard who surrounds himself with men who are even more vicious, including some nutter known at The Rottweiler.’

‘What about his private life? Does he actually have one?’

‘He lives well,’ I said. ‘But that’s about all we know. He’s got a fancy apartment overlooking the Thames, a big country house in Kent and a luxury villa in Spain – all paid for through legitimate businesses that are fronts for his dodgy activities.’

‘Is it a family-run organisation?’ Aidan asked.

I shook my head. ‘If it was we’re sure he would have retired by now and handed over the reins to a son or daughter. But if you ask me that’s down to poetic justice.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, he lost his wife ten years ago in a car crash. They never had children.’

‘That’s tough,’ Aidan said. ‘But even so it’s hard to feel sorry for the guy.’

I didn’t bother carrying on even though I could have revealed a lot more about Roy Slack. I could sense that Aidan had heard enough and, besides, it was only fair that we talked a bit about his day.

He jumped at the chance to tell me that he’d been asked to organise the staff Christmas party this year alongside my mother, who always got involved in her capacity as school secretary.