‘Where is he?’ she snapped.

‘Interview room three.’

‘Buzz me in.’

Woolf pressed the button to activate the door lock and watched Erika as she swept past into the main part of the station, noticing for the first time that she had curves, and how good her legs looked in a dress.

Erika passed through the heavy steel door separating the cell block from the rest of the station and went into the observation suite, where she found DC Warren and one of the uniformed officers in front of a large bank of video screens. One of the screens showed the sparse interior of interview room three from a high angle, above a table and two chairs. Peterson sat opposite Gary Wilmslow, who had his arms folded and a smug look on his face. Another officer, a young woman whom Erika didn’t know, sat on a chair in the corner behind Peterson.

‘Who’s she?’ she asked.

‘That’s DC Ryan,’ said Warren.

‘Come on, Gary. Where did you get the cigarettes?’ Peterson asked in the interview room. His voice sounded tinny through the speakers in the observation suite.

‘They’re not mine,’ Gary shrugged. The harsh lights made his pale, bald head glisten.

‘You knew they were there, Gary.’

‘They’re not mine.’

‘Gregory Munro earned over two hundred thousand a year. And he had income from rental properties on top of that…’

‘They’re not mine,’ he repeated, sounding bored.

‘He wouldn’t have risked his career for a case of knock-off cigarettes…’

‘They’re. Not. MINE,’ repeated Gary, baring his teeth.

‘Is that why you came over to the house? You heard it had been transferred to Estelle Munro’s name?’

Gary kept his arms folded and stared ahead.

‘Come on, Gary, you’re getting sloppy. We heard you from upstairs, threatening Estelle. Is it really your style, threatening old ladies?’ said Peterson.

‘I wasn’t threatening her,’ scowled Gary. ‘I was protecting her.’

‘Protecting her from what?’

Gary laughed and leant forward. ‘From you, jungle boy. I know your type. Like horny dogs when it comes to white women. Even saggy old biddies like Estelle.’ He sat back and grinned. Peterson looked as if he was going to lose it.

‘Where did you get the cigarettes, Gary?’ shouted Peterson.

‘Dunno what you’re talking about,’ said Gary.

‘You were heard clearly saying that you were there to collect your cigarettes. And then we find twenty thousand Spanish Marlboro Lights in the attic. Packed in plastic.’

‘I’ve been lucky enough to have a few Spanish holidays,’ said Gary, a maddening smile on his face. ‘That’s nothing to do with the fags, I’m just making polite conversation.’

Peterson leaned in very close to Gary, so their noses almost touched, and stared at him.

‘Get out of my face… Get out of my face…’

Peterson stayed, staring at Gary.

‘Get out of my fucking face!’ Gary tipped his head back and nutted Peterson.

‘Jesus!’ shouted Erika. She dashed from the observation suite and ran into Moss in the corridor. ‘What the hell are you doing? Why aren’t you in there?’

‘I’m trying to sort Wilmslow’s brief…’ started Moss.

Erika pushed past her and yanked open the door to interview room three. Peterson and Wilmslow were on the floor. Wilmslow was on top, punching Peterson in the face. Peterson threw Gary off and slammed him back into the wall. Gary quickly recovered and lunged at Peterson again. DC Ryan saw Erika and moved to help.

‘Come on! We need back-up. Get in here, now!’ shouted Erika, looking up at the camera. Erika, Moss and Ryan pulled Gary Wilmslow off Peterson and managed to handcuff him. His lip was split and he spat onto the floor. Three more uniformed officers suddenly appeared in the door.

‘Woken up, have you? Go on. Put him in a cell,’ said Erika.

‘Any time, jungle boy,’ said Gary, giving Peterson a manic bloody grin as they dragged him out. Peterson slowly got up off the grubby floor. Two of his shirt buttons were ripped and his nose was bleeding.

‘What the hell were you doing?’ said Erika.

‘Boss, he’s…’

‘Just shut your mouth and clean yourself up. Then we’ll talk.’

Peterson wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and left the interview room.

‘Boss, he had thousands of cigarettes…’ started Moss. Erika put up her hand to silence her.