Donny was screaming now. ‘Susan, how can you do this to me, to us? Please, Suze, don’t believe a word he’s said. He’s a fucking psycho. He always was. I’m not lying this time, please help me. The money was for us. To give you the life you deserve. And the kids? I gave them a chance to earn more money in a month than most of them would in a year in dead-end jobs. I didn’t plan it all – but once I saw what life was really like for these kids, I realised if I didn’t do it, they’d soon end up working for much more dangerous men than me. I paid them, I gave them structure, responsibility – and told them never to sample the goods. It sounds bad, I know, but you loved the life it gave us …’

His wife looked at him. She leant in and looked deep into his eyes, smiling.

‘Rot in jail,’ she hissed as she spat in his face and walked away.

Beats whistled for the other coppers to come back over and within seconds Donny was launched into the back of the police van as he nodded at his colleagues. ‘Cheers, lads, I owe you big time. If you ever need help, I’ll have your back. The money’s gone to his missus so keep that off the record but the drugs will be used as evidence. Enough evidence to lock that cunt up for a very long time. Great job, lads, great result.’

The team had done well tonight. With the video footage Beats already had of Donny collecting drugs and talking to other dealers, he was fucked.

Banging, kicking, screaming from inside the police van. ‘You fucking wankers, you pricks, get me the fuck out of here. Get my solicitor. This is a stitch up. You’ve set me up. Get me out of here! Trevor, you twisted bastard, you’ll pay for this, trust me, as long as I’ve got a breath left in my body, you’ll pay for this so watch your back.’

Chapter Thirty-Four

Donny Knight sat in the dock at Manchester Crown court cracking his knuckles. He was thin, unshaven, dark circles under his eyes. He glanced over to the public gallery where he could see the reporters – eager, pens poised, waiting for the gory details. He could imagine the headlines, ‘Headteacher turned drugs mastermind, his students running county lines …’

Donny’s solicitor had told him straight that he was going to get a custodial sentence today, no matter what. And not a short one either. If he was lucky, he would get a seven stretch. If he was lucky. They were likely to throw the book at him, make an example of him, a statement to the public that no matter who you are, you cannot dodge the law.