The Alibi: A gripping crime thriller full of secrets, lies and revenge. Jaime Raven

not so sure, guv,’ he said. ‘From what I hear about Shapiro he’s not stupid. I can’t imagine he would kill her only days after that email was sent. He’d know how bad it would look.’

      ‘She might have given him a deadline,’ Redwood said. ‘So he felt he didn’t have a choice but to come here and make sure she didn’t carry out her threat. Or perhaps he paid someone to do it for him.’

      Cain felt a shiver of apprehension. He knew that what Redwood was saying made sense and that so far the evidence was pointing to Danny.

      ‘How well do you know the guy, Ethan?’ Redwood asked.

      Cain shrugged. ‘I’ve hauled him in a couple of times in connection with gangland killings but we’ve never been able to pin anything on him.’

      Redwood narrowed his eyes in concentration as he turned something over in his mind. After a few moments, he said, ‘I had dealings with a couple of the big-time villains in Manchester. It was always difficult because they’re so well connected. I’m assuming that like them Shapiro has his fair share of friends in high places across London.’

      ‘I reckon that goes without saying,’ Cain said.

      Redwood nodded. ‘In that case we have to assume that he’s got at least one or two of our colleagues in the Met on his books. Which means we have to play this close to our chests. I don’t want him getting wind of evidence we need to keep to ourselves.’

      Cain’s stomach folded in on itself. He realised now that he was going to have to be ultra-careful. Redwood was clearly no novice when it came to dealing with criminals like Danny Shapiro who had heaps of cash and lots of clout.

      He was aware that the tentacles of corruption reached into the guts of every force in the UK.

      So he would know not to trust anyone – not even those officers who were working alongside him on the investigation.

       7

      Danny Shapiro

      Danny tried to focus his mind as he showered and shaved. But it wasn’t easy because of the rising sense of panic inside him. He was used to being in control, staying one step ahead of everyone else. Now he was on the back foot and struggling to see how he’d be able to convince the filth that he didn’t kill his ex-wife.

      There was no way he could admit to being in Megan’s house last night, or that he had been anywhere near the area.

      He’d been thinking about the CCTV cameras that would have picked him up during the walk from Clapham to Balham and felt sure the cops would struggle to identify him from any footage. It had been raining, after all, and he’d been wearing a hoody.

      But even if he struck lucky there he still couldn’t account for his movements. They would probably know by now that he hadn’t spent the evening at the Bermondsey flat. The concierge would have confirmed that he hadn’t been back there since Thursday. He couldn’t even say he’d been here all evening – in the house that he actually considered his home and that precious few people knew existed.

      A security camera on the front of the building and a CCTV camera on the street would have recorded him arriving back at about 11.30. That in itself would be another nail in his coffin.

      What he needed was a cast-iron alibi and he didn’t have one. There were any number of people working for him who could provide him with a false one, but he wasn’t sure he had enough time to get it sorted. He’d first have to decide who he trusted, then find out what they were doing last night, before agreeing a story. Any mistakes on their part, any holes in the story, and the whole thing would come unstuck.

      Bishop would have been the obvious choice, but Danny knew for a fact that his enforcer had spent the evening at their new club in Streatham.

      Besides, as soon as he started asking people to give him an alibi they’d assume it was a sign of guilt and that he had killed Megan. He had been under pressure anyway to warn her off since she’d starting threatening to reveal details about the firm in her autobiography. Bishop and some of the other crew members had been concerned that she’d land them all in the shit.

      Danny had tried to assure them that she was bluffing and knew very little about his business affairs. He’d nevertheless agreed to sort her out. But Megan had ignored his warnings, and even when he had offered her 100 grand ‘for old times’ sake’ she had rejected it and continued to demand half a million.

      Out of principle he would never have paid her that much, but he would probably have offered her another 100 k. If that still hadn’t been enough to shut her up he wasn’t sure what he’d have done. Now, of course, he didn’t have to worry.

      Not for the first time he wondered if she’d been telling the truth when she told him she had a publisher. For all he knew she wasn’t even writing a book. Maybe it was just a desperate attempt to force him into giving her money.

      He could feel the blood pulsing in his neck as he got dressed. Casual clothes as usual. Jeans, shirt, leather jacket. When he checked himself in the mirror he got a shock. His face was gaunt and pale, the lips set in a tight line.

      He was pouring himself a cup of coffee when the landline phone rang for the second time that morning. After a brief hesitation he decided to answer it, and when he heard Bishop’s voice the relief surged through him.

      ‘Is that you, boss?’

      ‘Who else would it be on this number?’ Danny said.

      ‘I called earlier and there was no answer. Wasn’t sure if you were there.’

      ‘I was in the shower.’

      ‘Right. Well, I take it you’ve heard about Megan.’

      ‘Of course. It’s all over the fucking news.’

      ‘At least she no longer poses a threat,’ Bishop said. ‘You want me to pass on a message to the lads?’

      ‘Yeah. You can tell them I wasn’t responsible. I haven’t a fucking clue who topped her.’

      ‘’Course you haven’t, boss. That goes without saying. But the Old Bill are looking for you anyway in case you don’t know. I’ve just had a call from the office. They turned up there mob-handed about ten minutes ago and they’ve also been to your flat.’

      ‘Well, I’ll talk to them when I’m good and ready. Where are you?’

      ‘On my way to the office. We were planning to have a team talk this morning or had you forgotten?’

      ‘I hadn’t forgotten,’ Danny said. ‘But I’ll be late. I’ve got something to do first.’

      ‘No problem. How do you feel about Megan?’

      ‘I’m gutted. How do you think I feel? I was married to the woman for three years. And regardless of what a nuisance she’s been since she left me, I wouldn’t have wished this on her.’

      ‘Yeah, I see what you mean.’

      Danny wasn’t surprised that Bishop appeared unmoved. The man didn’t give a rat’s arse about anyone. He’d known Megan for as long as Danny had and had been one of the few people who hadn’t disapproved of the marriage. But even back then he wouldn’t have shed a tear if she’d fallen under a bus. In fact he wouldn’t have hesitated for a second if Danny had instructed him to push her under one.

      That was the thing about Bishop. He had the perfect mind-set for the job he did. Granted, he was a psycho who relished hurting people. It was how he’d made a name for himself during his days in Southampton. And why the Old Bill there had been so glad to get shot of him. But he was also a fiercely loyal enforcer and committed consigliere. And when you ran an operation that meant you had to deal with the dregs of society he was the kind of person you wanted at your side.

      ‘I