Blyth said her goodbyes and got into the car. She had never really doubted Frankie’s statement, but the fact that Kerry had repeated what her friend had said virtually word for word convinced Blyth that both girls were telling the absolute truth. All she had to do now was help the Met prove it.

Eddie stood solemnly in his aunt’s front garden. It had been his idea to use Joanie’s abode, where he and his brothers had grown up, for the sad occasion. Paulie’s wife had recently divorced him and wanted nothing to do with his funeral whatsoever. As for Ronny’s long-suffering partner, Sharon, she now lived in a poky council flat in Beckton and there just wasn’t room for the mourners or the flowers.

Spotting his uncles, Reg and Albert, Eddie walked over to them and shook their hands.

‘Few blasts from the past ’ere today boy, ain’t there?’ Reg commented, referring to some well-known faces that belonged to the criminal fraternity.

Eddie nodded. Paulie and Ronny had never been particularly popular, especially towards the latter years of their lives, but the criminal world was a tight-knit community and on occasions like this people would come and pay their respects to the actual family rather than the dead themselves.

Seeing Sharon burst into tears, Ed went over and put a comforting arm around the poor woman’s shoulder. Over the years, Sharon had stuck by his brother through thick and thin. Ronny had always been a bastard to her. He’d spoken to her like shit, had even knocked her about at times, and Ed had never understood Sharon’s loyalty towards him. Even when Ronny was left paralysed after being shot in the spine, Sharon stayed put. They had no kids and Ed thought the poor cow deserved a medal for coping with a crippled, abusive alcoholic.

Eddie led Sharon over to where Gina was standing. ‘Keep an eye on Shal for me, babe,’ he whispered.

About to pop inside the house to check on Joanie and Vi, Ed heard the clip-clop of hooves and stopped dead in his tracks.

‘Are you all right, Dad?’ Gary asked him.

Ed felt his whole body stiffen as he clapped eyes on the two coffins. Picturing his brothers lying lifeless inside them, he felt anything but all right. In fact, he felt sick with guilt.

Over in Rainham, Joyce was sipping a large brandy, which she’d poured to calm her nerves. She still hadn’t seen or spoken to Stanley since he’d moved in with Joey and Dominic but, at her grandson’s insistence, she had agreed to meet her philandering husband for lunch today.

‘Grandad said he’ll pick you up at one,’ Joey told her yesterday.

‘You tell your grandfather that I shall get a cab and meet him at the carvery.’

‘What’s the point of you paying for a cab?’ Joey asked, perplexed.