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French.’
    ‘You need to make sure you follow proper procedure on this,’ said Angus. ‘I don’t want him wriggling off the hook with his clever lawyers if we find anything that can implicate him. This “Deep Throat”’ – Angus raised his fingers in a quote mark – ‘also claimed that Christos was moving other stuff. So if there
is
something else coming in in those cans, we need to know about that too, and I suggest we try to find out who this tip-off is and get him some protection; he’s going to need it. Oh, and by the way, the line was so garbled we think the tip-off was using a voice changer, so it could in fact be a woman.’
    The team nodded and Angus thumped his desk with the rolled-up paper, as if bringing the meeting to a close.
    ‘Sir, there’s something weird at that house.’ Georgie sensed them stilling as they turned towards her. She feared they were waiting for her to say something ridiculous.
    ‘What do you mean?’ asked Angus.
    ‘Well, I mean … Just hear me out. It’s a hunch, I guess.’ Damn, that had come out all wrong. She could see Preston leaning back in his chair, luxuriating in her every fuck-up so soon in her new job. ‘They’ve got two kids and lots of money, but they live in a flat with no garden, right on a busy road. The windows don’t even open, there’s an air-conditioning system. Why aren’t they living in a nice house with a garden in … I don’t know, Chelsea, St John’s Wood?’
    Angus shrugged, flicking through a pile of paper to find something he needed. ‘Maybe they like city living.’
    ‘OK, well, that’s my point really. She works at home, does the artsy thing and makes masks, yet they’re right next to King’s Cross, one of the biggest construction sites in Europe. It’s all noisy and chaotic. Fine behind the double glazing, but once outside, not a place for kids. I’ve got a friend who’s an estate agent, and he says that it’s women who choose houses, you’re always selling to the wife. But my point is
he
chose that flat – he’s the boss. And you can grow to hate your boss.’ Angus frowned and looked alarmed. ‘No offence, but maybe our anonymous tip-off came from the wife.’
    Preston made a sucking sound on his teeth. ‘Don’t overstate it. These wives are up to their necks in it, just like their husbands. They’re always family affairs.’
    Georgie was about to argue this point vehemently with Preston but her eye was caught by the receptionist outside Angus’s office gesticulating at her.
    The receptionist opened the door. ‘Sorry, Georgie, but there’s someone downstairs for you.’
    Georgie frowned. ‘Who is it?’
    The receptionist looked stricken. ‘I think it’s your dad.’
    ‘Are we quite finished?’ Angus was staring at her.
    ‘Sorry, sorry.’
    ‘The only way to find out for sure about the wife is to talk to her,’ Angus continued, ‘find out if there’s something about her we can use—what’s all that shouting?’
    ‘Excuse me,’ said Georgie, leaving the room in a hurry.
    Georgie was already at a near run as the sound of shouting rebounded off the stairwell. She flew down the stairs two at a time, finding her dad beginning to tussle with a security guard in the entrance. ‘Thank you, I’ll take it from here.’ She grabbed the back of her dad’s jacket and pulled him through the swing doors and up against the side of the building, panic beginning to build. She didn’t want him further out in the car park or her colleagues would have a stadium view from the windows upstairs. ‘It’s eleven thirty in the morning, what the hell are you doing?’
    ‘I kept telling them that I needed to … why were you not here?’
    ‘Where’s Ryan?’
    ‘That fucker has gone off and I couldn’t get the fire started, it’s freezing in the house, why weren’t you here?’
    He was leaning heavily on her, the sharp tang of spirits clinging to him.
    ‘Tell me you didn’t drive, please tell me …’
    ‘Drive? I