‘Listen, I’m going to go and fetch that pie and booze. You can tell me all about what’s in that document when I get back. What are we, Gary?’

‘Shit-hot, Grace.’

Grace left the flat while Lassoo stayed with me. I turned my attention to the contents of the document:

‘STATEMENT OF BRENDAN JONES CONCERNING CORRUPTION WITHIN THE SOUTH EAST LONDON SERIOUS CRIME SQUADS WITH PARTICULAR REFERENCE TO THE ACTIVITIES OF CITYSIDE INVESTIGATIONS.’

I immediately wished I had never opened the file, but it was impossible to resist reading on. It started with a list of police officers’ names and members of staff at Cityside Investigations. It then went on to detail at least twenty cases in which Brendan was alleging that the police had obtained information illegally via Cityside Investigations and/or had used them to pervert the course of justice by planting evidence, losing evidence, making false statements, intimidating witnesses, protecting drug dealers for payment etc. etc. On and on it went, and it was made all the more compelling because Brendan himself was involved in a good percentage of the cases. There were a number of audio and video files attached throughout the document. If the contents were true, it was seriously incriminating.

I had an instant desire to destroy it right there and then and leave the country to start a new life as a boat builder in Newfoundland. I desperately wanted this corn cob dongle out of my life. I wanted to take it down to Peckham Police Station immediately. I felt that I could trust Detective Bailey, so I gave his number a ring, but it went to voicemail. I didn’t leave a message. It was bothering me that John McCoy had told me not to speak to the police about the dongle. He had even threatened me with the words ‘We wouldn’t want Grace or little Emily to suffer, would we?’ I was certain that McCoy didn’t make empty threats. Maybe I should take it to McCoy? Maybe I shouldn’t tell another soul that I had found it? I settled on a course of action that would at least see me through till the end of the day. I would bury my head in the sand and get moderately pissed.