‘Good. That’s probably because he knows you did the right thing. You think you get it rough? Try being in my skin, woman!’ he said in a thick Jamaican accent, making her smile.

Jane had never worked in uniform or in the CID alongside a black officer until she met Lloyd on the Flying Squad. There were no black officers at Bromley. She knew that despite efforts to encourage black and other ethnic minority applicants to join the police force, the response had been poor. Many in the Afro-Caribbean community believed, with good reason, that if they joined the police they would be subjected to racism within the force as well as opposition and hostility from their own community.

Lloyd took a sip of his coffee and put his notebook and pen on the desk. ‘I take it you’re dealing with the body in the coffin?’ She nodded. ‘Right, give me a rundown on what’s happened so far.’

Jane brought Lloyd up to speed with details of the case. As he closed his notebook, Boon walked into the room eating a sandwich and carrying a brown paper bag.

‘Where have you been?’ Jane asked him.

‘Sorry, sarge, I got delayed giving a nurse some advice regarding home security.’

‘More like chatting her up, knowing you, Boony,’ Lloyd said as he turned round.

‘Bloody hell, Teflon, how you doing, mate?’

‘Not bad my friend . . . and you?’

‘Good, thanks. I’m working a really interesting case with DS Tennison. It looks like it could be a murder.’

‘I know, she just told me all about it.’

‘DS Johnson is assisting us as the lab sergeant,’ Jane told him. ‘So how do you two know each other?’

Boon spoke with a mouthful of sandwich. ‘Teflon was helping coach the Met football team until he got himself shot. Then his wound got infected, and he ended up with sepsis, which damaged his liver and kidneys . . .’

Seeing that Jane was shocked by this new information, Lloyd raised his hand. ‘I’m sure Sergeant Tennison doesn’t want to hear all the gory details, Boony.’

‘We all thought you was a goner at the time, mate,’ Boon continued, ignoring the hint. ‘I even heard they called a priest in to give you the last rites.’

‘That’s rubbish. I’m fine now and hope to be back coaching again soon.’

The mortuary technician put his head round the door. ‘The radiographer just finished developing the X-rays and Dr Pullen is ready to start the post-mortem.’

As they left the room, DS Johnson sidled up to Boon and tapped his arm. ‘I’d prefer to be called Lloyd now, Boony. Teflon was a Flying Squad nickname, which doesn’t really go with my new role as a lab sergeant.’

‘No problem.’ Boon nodded. ‘Personally, I always thought Teflon sounded a bit racist.’

As they entered the mortuary room Pullen was examining an X-ray on an illuminated viewer.

‘Found anything interesting, doc?’ Boon asked as they gathered round the viewer.