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us again. I’ll ask just once more. Did she give you anything else for safe keeping or have you taken anything that you’ve failed to tell us about today?’ April regarded each in turn.

Francis immediately answered in the negative but Eileen went into the kitchen and brought back her purse. She took out forty pounds and handed it to April. ‘This was found on the table when I went in on the last occasion. I was going to put it towards their rent, only … it wasn’t those exact notes you understand.’ There was embarrassment in her tone as she handed them over.

April took the money before handing it to Brad. ‘You’ll be hearing from us again have no fear of that. We’ll send you a receipt for the items we removed today.’

The officers in the hallway were clearing their equipment. They all left together.

‘Bloody hell, I wasn’t expecting that!’ Brad chuckled. ‘There’s going to be a few strong words spoken in there today and strangely, ma’am, my money’s on Frankie boy, like.’ He grinned, mimicking their penchant for finishing sentences with the word like.

‘What do we have, DC Bradshaw?’ April asked as she climbed into the car.

‘Two laptop computers, a box, and some cash, ma’am.’

‘Is that all?’

Brad turned to her and looked her in the eye. His puzzled expression clearly demonstrated a thought process. ‘A possible future domestic?’

‘You disappoint me, DC Bradshaw. Your mind was obviously somewhere else. We have a name … Do you recall now?’

Brad turned the key and started the car. ‘Nope.’

April looked at him again. He had been taking notes. ‘You’ll need to keep a close eye on the Incident Room boards.’

Sadiq’s phone rang. The tone told him who was calling. He knew to listen.

‘Are we nearly done? Where’s Doc?’

‘Hi, bro. Yes, should be. Doc? He’s at “Effing Street”, where we always work. Flam’s there too with the others so all will be well. Being bagged and readied for distribution as instructed.’

‘Rumour has it the police have been around the terminal and the carpark. If that shit, Quasim, has been squealing, I’ll have him.’

‘He’ll not squeal, he was there when we did Abid. It shook him. He’s only too aware of the action taken against traitors to the group. He also realises that it doesn’t matter if he goes down, his lights will still be put out wherever if he squeals.’ Sadiq did not intend for his words to come out so flippantly.

‘You’d get to him like you can get to the girl? So, what about Chelle? Kelly, you know she’s really called Kelly, right? They’ve found a girl who knew her, in Wigan. If they get to our girl this could start to bubble and bubble. Get the stuff shipped and clear up. No more attacks for the time being.’

The phone went dead. Sadiq grabbed a coat. Within fifteen minutes he was approaching Effingham Street.

Skeeter had ten minutes with Bob and mentioned the discovery of the laptops and the name, Abid. She voiced her desire to confront the suspect and it was agreed.

Quasim was sitting next to his legal representative and it must be said, his demeanour appeared far more respectful on this occasion. Skeeter and Bob Lawn entered the room. The attending officer helped Quasim to his feet.

‘Sit when the officers do, lad, otherwise you’ll be standing for the interview.’ The officer tapped his shoulders like an old friend.

Quasim obeyed.

‘Quasim, let me introduce you to DCI Lawn. He’s a police officer who specialises in bringing drug dealers to justice and he’s very successful at it.’

Bob shuffled the papers in front of him but did not look up.

Skeeter continued. ‘You might be wondering one of two things. Number one, why have you been held a long time, longer than normal? Your legal representative here may well have explained or will give you the reason for that. Secondly, why are you being questioned by this man, knowing his area of expertise, when you were arrested for robbery and ABH? You were also in possession of a Class A drug, traces were found on your clothing and in your system. It is our belief that you, young man, are involved in dealing and running drugs. We have the results back from the tests.’ She pointed to the file on the table. ‘You’re a mule. We also believe you’ve been involved in many crimes involving motorcycles and the like, and in some cases including threats and violence. We know that you were involved. DNA proves it.’

Quasim looked at his lawyer and then back but did not respond. He had listened well to his instructions.

It was Bob’s turn. ‘Remember that you’re still under caution and this interview is being recorded for your legal benefit as much as for ours.’ He smiled fleetingly as he turned a photograph over and pushed it in Quasim’s direction. ‘Have you seen this man before?’ Bob sat back and steepled his fingers.

Quasim did not pick up the photograph. He looked carefully before turning to his lawyer and then back at Bob. He shook his head.

‘You’re shaking your head. I take it that means, no?’

‘No,’ came back, the word like a shallow echo.

‘Let me give you this photograph.’ This too was pushed across. ‘I take it you recognise one person on that photograph; the one facing the camera?’

‘Me.’

‘And the other person?’

The lawyer picked up the photograph. ‘It shows the back of someone’s head, Detective Inspector.’

Quasim nodded and smiled.

‘Try this then,’ Bob slid across a third photograph. ‘Here you can see the person to whom you were speaking has kindly turned and is now facing the camera. What do you notice between the first photograph and this?’

‘It’s me and the man in the first pic. You asked me if I knew him!’ Quasim’s voice was raised. The officer near the door moved closer.

‘I asked if you’d seen him before. We can replay the tapes.’

The lawyer whispered into her client’s ear.

Skeeter took up the line of questioning. ‘We know who he is,

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