There were fifteen detectives in the room and five support staff. Only the detectives put up their hands.

Drummond twisted his lips in thought and shook his head.

‘Now there’s no need for anyone to panic,’ he said. ‘My gut tells me that DS Chappell is right and that this is a nasty, pointless prank. Hopefully it won’t take us long to confirm that once the techies find out who the sender is.’

But I for one wasn’t reassured by his words. It was an anonymous text and whoever had sent it would have covered his or her tracks. Plus, I didn’t feel that the threat contained in the text could be dismissed so easily.

I read it again as the air around me began to oscillate with tension:

I demand that the organised crime task force be disbanded. I know that Scotland Yard chiefs will ignore me so I’m calling on you and all the other detectives attached to the unit to step back from it. Those of you who refuse will suffer the consequences and either you or those close to you, including family members, will be killed. You are advised to take this seriously. Do not make the mistake of treating it as an empty threat.

Most of us tried to reply to the text but we all got the same message back – that the recipient could not be contacted.

The message threw up a ton of questions, and not just the obvious one of whether we should take it seriously. If it wasn’t a prank then was it conceivable that the threat would actually be carried out? Would this person really go so far as to launch a murderous campaign against a team of police officers and their families?

It was the stuff of nightmares, but in the age of rampant terrorism it wouldn’t come as such a massive shock if it did happen. London was already on high alert following ISIS-inspired attacks on coppers in the streets.

But this had nothing to do with terrorists. I was sure of that. And so too was Tony Marsden.

‘I reckon this is the work of some villain who wants to put the frighteners on us,’ he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. ‘And the main suspect has to be Roy fucking Slack.’

‘Let’s not jump the gun,’ Drummond said. ‘Anyone could have sent it.’

‘But surely it must be someone with a vested interest, guv,’ Marsden persisted. ‘And the timing of it points to him.’

‘Tony’s right, sir,’ Dave Prentiss said. ‘It’s just the kind of thing the bugger would do to stir things up. He’s desperate to throw us off track, if only to give him time to come up with ways to keep us from bringing him down.’