Costain wrenched his arm over, made him drop the knife and dived for the door.

*   *   *

Sefton felt his bruised ribs as the Brazil fan made to smash him across the body. He danced out of the way, avoided the grasp and headed for the door. He saw Mi Ling carefully not reacting, then he was out of there, into the corridor, where he could hear a whole stampede of footsteps rushing up the stairs. There was Costain, dashing out of a door in front of him. They looked at each other. ‘Window?’ said Costain. They grabbed for it, and started to haul it away from its sealed, peeling paintwork.

*   *   *

‘Fuck,’ said Quill, panting as he arrived at the door, Ross beside him. ‘Fuck.’ He hammered on the door, rang the doorbell, and then kicked it for good measure.

The door opened and a woman he assumed to be the one who’d welcomed Costain and Sefton looked out. ‘This is a private—’

Quill shoved his warrant card in her face. ‘I know what this is. My name is DI James Quill, and the two men you’re having a go at are police officers on an operation. So unless you want to be party to assaulting a police officer—’

There came a crash from behind the building. ‘I think,’ said the woman, her voice dripping with contempt, ‘you’ll find they just left.’

Chapter Sixteen

SIXTEEN

‘Thanks for coming in for us,’ said Sefton. They were back at the Portakabin, with very strong coffee and, if Quill himself was anything to go by, a feeling of both relief and new pressure at having found a fresh lead. The name Mary Arthur was now written under the victim photograph on the Ops Board. That was a precious data point that their mysterious enemy would become aware they knew of, if they went to sleep.

Costain stretched his knee and winced. ‘We should have them for not keeping a fire escape in working order.’

‘Mary Arthur,’ said Ross, looking up from the PC. The others gathered around to see. ‘Last known address in Muswell Hill, a landlord who called the police when she went missing … two months ago.’

‘Way before she was in that bar,’ said Costain. ‘Looks like she went back to her freelance work.’

‘Having cut off all ties with everyone she knew,’ said Sefton. ‘She deliberately vanished.’

‘Is that her mobile number that was written on the business card we found in Spatley’s office?’ asked Quill.

‘Not that’s listed,’ said Ross.

They went over to the board. Ross reached for an association line, then put it back in the box. ‘I want to associate Mary Arthur with Spatley,’ she said. ‘But I can’t quite do it yet.’

‘Work it out loud,’ said Quill.