The Mercedes pulled up by the main entrance, and Locke climbed out. He disappeared inside without so much as a glance over his shoulder. Home turf confidence. Porter shook his head softly. Not just confidence. Arrogance. The way his money and connections flowed around him like a cloak, deflecting suspicion onto people like Bolton. Not that Bolton didn’t deserve all that came his way, and then some, but at least he was what he appeared to be. Locke was all facade, and Porter wondered what he’d be like if he was ever cornered. Wondered if he would regress to his East London roots without the trappings of wealth to protect him.

He sensed movement in his rear-view mirror, and saw four cars pull in behind. He was relieved to see one of them carried the team of authorised firearms officers. He got out to meet them halfway, and recognised the faces of most of the ten men that came towards him, but the one that stood out was Jon Whittaker. His expression as he approached Porter was inscrutable, his face pale and drawn. Porter felt for him. He wouldn’t know where to start in that situation. All Hollywood movie bullshit aside, your partner was meant to be a rock, someone who would back you no matter what. To find out that yours had betrayed your trust and, even worse, had sabotaged an investigation that got another officer killed, was beyond the pale.

He nodded at him as Whittaker approached with the others, gathering around Porter in a semicircle. He quickly filled them in on what he knew and what he and Styles had observed. Styles had made the call to Whittaker direct rather than use an open frequency. They couldn’t take the chance that Anderson was listening in. Whittaker had given a quick and dirty update to a disbelieving Campbell and Milburn before gathering all available officers and joining Porter by the warehouse.

‘OK, it’s a secure site, and that counts in our favour. There’s a perimeter fence like this’ – he tapped the rigid steel fence posts – ‘all the way round, front and back. We send the van through first, and when I say through, I mean through. Locke’s in there as well. He turned up just before you lads. He gets a pass this time, so be careful we don’t give him any excuse to spit his dummy and call the deputy commissioner.’

He looked around and could see the excitement mingled with anticipation in the eyes of his audience.