‘Hello there,’ Mrs Nash had said, as she approached. ‘Can I be of assistance?’

Rosa had smiled at her while at the same time drawing the silenced pistol from inside the coat. She’d then pulled the trigger twice before the woman even had time to react.

Both bullets had smashed into her chest and thrown her against the wall behind her. She’d slid to the floor as blood poured from the wounds onto her bright-green blouse.

Rosa had then stepped behind the counter to make sure that her victim was dead. And that was when she’d spotted the sleek black digital video recorder beneath the counter, the machine that no doubt stored the surveillance camera footage. It was a stupid place to put it and it took Rosa just seconds to unplug it from the mains and walk out of the shop with it under her arm.

The DVR had fitted snugly in one of the saddlebags and on the way back to the garage she’d dumped that and the overcoat in a commercial wheelie bin in front of a car park.

Now as she reflected on the completion of another successful job, the corners of her mouth lifted in a satisfied smirk. She was on a roll, for sure. Carlos would be pleased and so would the client. She now had to hope that the rest of the assignment went just as smoothly. If so, then she could start to think about ways of spending some of the half million dollars she was being paid.

29

Laura

There was no easy way to break the news to us so Drummond didn’t attempt to.

But before speaking to us he called DI Phil Warren into his office and got him to sit with a very distraught Graham Nash. Warren was Nash’s closest friend on the task force and they often worked together as a pair.

After the boss had closed his door on them he told us that Nash’s wife Marion had been shot dead in her bookshop on Clapham High Street.

‘It’s believed to have happened about two hours ago,’ Drummond said. ‘Her body was found lying behind the counter by a customer. The senior investigating officer at the scene has only just discovered that she was Graham’s wife and one of the people who received the death threat.’

There was a long, heavy silence during which nobody spoke or moved. We were all shocked and paralysed. My mind raced along with my heart. I thought about the death threat we had all received.

… I’m calling on you and 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 …

Oh God.

First Dave Prentiss. Now Graham Nash’s wife, Marion. I couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it.