‘None of the above is as important as us getting this information to you,’ said Sue. ‘You ask if we know certain things. Not for sure, no. But we aim to clear our consciences—’

‘Such as they are,’ said Rita.

‘—and send you in the right direction. Having stumbled across some information, the nature of which we’re not going to divulge to you, we decided to use the unique capabilities of our organization to investigate the financial dealings of several people who are doubtless of interest to you.’

‘Michael Spatley MP,’ said Rita. ‘Squeaky clean.’

Lofthouse felt able to risk a follow-up. ‘Not even sexually dodgy? No payments to brothels, and so on?’

‘Interesting,’ said Sue. ‘But no.’

‘Rupert Rudlin,’ said Rita, ‘had his misdemeanours – actually paid for cocaine on his credit card a couple of times – but nothing to concern you. But as to the others—’

Lofthouse was amazed. ‘You have something on the other victims?’

Rita handed her an envelope. ‘This is our gift to you. Because of what we think is going to happen soon.’

‘We’re not going to tell you what that is,’ said Sue in a stage whisper.

‘Your Metropolitan Police Commissioner, Geoffrey Staunce, and the driver, Brian Tunstall,’ continued Rita, ‘both have a history of unusual payments being made to them, Staunce until a couple of years back, Tunstall only recently. But Staunce got another one … the day after Spatley was murdered.’

Lofthouse looked through the papers with growing interest. ‘Thank you. This could be extremely helpful.’

‘Not as much as it could be,’ said Sue. ‘The trails all lead back to cut-outs in the realm of offshore banking. Not even our reach extends that far.’ She looked up suddenly at the sound of leather on willow. ‘Oh, lovely shot.’

Chapter Fourteen

FOURTEEN

Quill’s team had gathered in front of the Ops Board once more. Ross had told the others about the auction, but had made it sound as if it was something she’d found out about from the Docklands papers only on that same night. She’d managed not to mention that Costain had come along too. She’d thus established an honest context for having connected the man who’d left the Soviet bar to the big circle they’d drawn to indicate the wider world of the London occult underground. She’d mentioned getting a look at the auction ledger, and thus finding the record of Vincent’s transaction, as though anyone could easily do that. She had made no mention of her ordeal.

Sefton had looked suspiciously at her as she’d told them all that, but had in the end accepted that he’d made solo jaunts himself; it was something their team did. ‘Just bring me along to the next one, okay?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Are you okay?’

Ross had needed her best poker face for that one. She’d managed to avoid looking to Costain. ‘Yeah.’

Sefton had finally just nodded.