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the top of the lane, away from the gang. It took Pole only a fraction of a second to follow.

The shrieks that came from the far end of the alley told Pole that four young men had moved as one. The pounding of their feet on the ground reverberated between the walls of the shabby houses.

Harris almost reached the top of the street, came to an abrupt stop in front of one of the doors, the colour of which had disappeared under layers of grime and graffiti. He pushed the door handle and to Pole’s amazement it opened.

They both dashed through it, slamming it shut and drawing the solid bolts across. Harris ran along the narrow corridor. Wallpaper had been pulled off the walls, some of it still littered on the ground. Pole hesitated. The force of the blows against the door and loud yells made him follow as quickly as he could.

He ran and found Harris going through another door at the back of the house. It led to a small yard. Harris walked over to the low wall that separated it from another street.

Pole could hear the slams against the front door, it would not hold for much longer. Harris climbed onto the wall that led to the street. He disappeared with one jump on the other side.

Pole followed. From a distance he heard the front door break open and the thunder of feet and screams of anger engulfing the house they had just left. Harris was waiting for him on the other side of the wall. Pole jumped without hesitation. Harris was already moving ahead. He took a set of keys out of his jacket pocket and activated the release button.

A small beep indicated a car had just opened. He got in and moved a water bottle and the wrapper of a biscuit packet from the passenger seat, making room for Pole. Harris drove off as soon as the other man had closed the door, untroubled by what had just occurred.

β€œDid you know it would happen?” Pole had settled his helmet on his thigh, amazed he had not dropped it during the chase.

β€œAlways a possibility in this neck of the woods …”

β€œDid you know the door would open?”

Harris smiled, looking straight at the road. He tapped his index finger a few times on the side of his nose. β€œI ain’t gonna be defeated by the little gits that live in these parts … though to be fair I also feel sorry for them.”

β€œWhy … because they haven’t been able to beat the hell out of us?”

β€œNope … I could have been one of them.” Harris was not being flippant. He stopped the car at the next set of traffic lights and turned towards Pole. β€œBut not your concern … I’m impressed, Inspector Pole. You can get a move on when you have to.”

β€œWhat do you take me for?” Pole rolled his eyes. β€œI’m with the Met and that means dealing with unsavoury characters just as much as you do.”

β€œNot saying otherwise … still …” Harris drove through a few streets that Pole did not recognise to finally end up in Brick Lane. He relaxed a little now he knew where he was.

β€œComing back to our conversation.” Harris parked the car in front of an old sari shop. β€œOllie Wilson has become of interest to me.”

β€œGood.” Pole half turned his tall body towards Harris. β€œAnd I need a lot more information about a certain Chinese artist we once discussed.”

β€œI have given you a lot already.” Harris frowned.

β€œWhat is it you said, Harris? You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours. I have a very sore itch that requires attention. I’m sure you can do a lot better then what you’ve delivered on Nancy Wu’s father so far.”

* * *

DS Branning slowly placed his large hand on Nancy’s shoulder, moving her gently out of the way.

He stepped in front of her and in front of the gun that was pointing at them.

The other two men had stopped rummaging through the props that Cora had stored in the studio part of the loft.

Nancy moved her head slightly to the side to measure the distance to the only exit route. Branning and she were not very far from the front door of the flat. She could certainly reach it but she doubted the police officer could.

The man with the gun was considering the options. He could gun them down now but this would alert the other police officers guarding the entrance from the unmarked car he must have spotted.

On that basis, Nancy was making an educated guess he did not want to shoot them. Then again, it would take a few minutes for reinforcements to arrive and the only thing they would see was a van and its SOCO team.

Branning was not moving, and his calm manner seemed to have defused the situation. The man with the gun moved it sideways a few times.

β€œHands over your heads … kneel down, both of you.” The accent was foreign, but Nancy could not quite distinguish its origin.

Branning raised his hands in slow motion and started to kneel down. Nancy followed. She cast her eyes around for something she could use as a weapon.

Ridiculous, of course … but she was not going to give up without a fight.

As she knelt, she noticed the proximity of the low kitchen wall that served as a breakfast bar. Before her knees touched the ground, she shuffled closer to it. Branning’s eyes quickly slid towards her. She hoped he had noticed her movement.

The two men put down the props they were holding and made their way swiftly across the wooden planks. The charred wooden floor had started to cave in and the groaning of the broken wood under their weight made them hurry. The exit route led them dangerously close to where DS Branning was kneeling.

They edged their way past him, ready for a fight. The man with the gun had started to move too, picking his

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