into a first floor flat on a not-very-nice council estate. Mum said that Dad had tried to find a job but times were hard. Losing our lovely home affected him more than he let on. He felt he was a failure who couldn’t provide for his family.

A year later he started drinking and getting violent with us. One day, he got so drunk he fell down a flight of stairs. From then on it was just Mum and I. A week after that, I started a new school and every day I had to walk past our old house.

I joined the police service straight from university. It’s all I had ever wanted to do from the age of ten. In my rank of detective sergeant, before my promotion I was dealing with cases such as murder, attempted murder, and gang-related major crime. My team was responsible for keeping a lot of nasty people off the streets.

However, it’s nothing like the TV shows. One investigation can take months of painstaking work, especially where street gangs are concerned, and they threaten the families of anyone who is likely to grass on them. For the most part the people I worked with were all good coppers. There were a couple I suspected of being corrupt but I had no proof, and simply tried to avoid them whenever I could. It didn’t pay to make enemies so I was pleasant, but never went for a drink with them. They did not ask me to, and likewise I didn’t ask them either.

During your daily duties as a senior detective, you never know who you are going to meet and you always have to look the part of authority. Nothing does that better than a nice suit, good quality shoes, fresh breath, and Tom Ford Orchid Soleil Eau de Parfum fragrance for men.

I did my bit in the force for better or for worse, but now that life is behind me. Things move on.

By ten pm I’m back in my room at the Premier Inn, sitting at the desk at the end of the king-size Hypnos bed, and finishing off my masterplan.

I allow myself one last ‘self-doubt’ that this is a dream and decide that enough is enough.

God has chosen me to do something with my life and I am not about to let him down.

Chapter Fourteen

PETER HOGAN

Nearly two years ago, Wilson’s petrol station on Mill Road closed down and the council gave permission for a mosque to be built in its place. The change drastically affected the income of the shops in this area, including Dave Rex’s takeaway kebab shop. He found a better location, but it didn’t have the relevant planning permission as a food outlet, and he was aware that several people had applied for a change of use in the last three years and been unsuccessful.

However, Dave had an ace up his sleeve – and like in any poker game, it helps if you know your opponents’ cards. Two weeks previously he’d noticed the Head of the Council Planning Committee emerging from the apartment of one of the Eastern European call girls he controlled. He found out from his girl ‘Rema’ that the man was a regular punter, visiting every Thursday evening.

When the situation required it, Dave could turn on the charm. So, the following week he greeted Rema’s regular punter outside her apartment, told him that Rema wasn’t feeling well, took him to another apartment and introduced him to ‘Monique’.

The moment forty-eight-year-old Peter Hogan saw her, his eyes nearly popped out of his head. Comparing this blonde bombshell to Rema was like offering someone a Victoria Sponge personally baked by Mary Berry when their usual treat was a stale rock cake.

“Monique only deals with my special clients,” explained Dave, noticing the lust in Peter’s eyes. He knew this punter would be willing to pay, whatever the price, but it wasn’t his cash Dave was after. He had other plans in mind.

An hour later, Peter emerged from the apartment; satisfied from head to toe; he’d never known a woman with so much passion.

Dave allowed Hogan two more visits to Monique before he approached him again. “I was wondering if you might be able to offer me some advice as to how to get my planning change of use approved. I recently put in an application for 202 Mill Road for use as a takeaway kebab shop.” Dave remained silent about the secretly taken photos. Use them as a last resort, he thought.

Peter had immediately got the gist of Dave’s talk. “I suppose, given that Mill Road seems to be an up and coming area, I’m sure I can have a word and get my colleagues to look at your application in a sympathetic way.”

Five weeks later, Dave’s plans got the approval needed from the council.

After that, Dave made sure Monique always had time for Hogan and got closer to him by taking him to a special ‘Members Only’ gentleman’s club as his guest. His reasoning for becoming friendly was, ‘You just never know when having someone it this position could come in handy.’

Unknown to Dave, Peter was having similar thoughts. There were certain deals and favours done inside the council walls that if leaked could end a lot of careers and mean jail sentences for those involved. Peter and a couple of associates needed someone to take care of ‘a little problem’ involving the police, who were about to commence investigating a couple of allegations.

Peter could sense Dave might just be the person they needed. He had a meeting with his two associates and it was agreed that he would approach Dave and see if something could be arranged.

As it turned out, Dave was only too happy to help. He didn’t disclose anything but he knew two Albanians who, if the money was right, would be prepared to undertake ‘removal’ tasks. Dave had put work their way before and they always delivered. The price for hiring the two was £10,000.

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