"Him—the man you keep saying is Alexander Fitzpatrick. He says to rne, he needs me to come to this garage in Wimbledon, as he needs my help—and to bring some tape and bandages and disinfectant."Adrian went on to describe how it had taken him some time to get there, as he didn't have a car; he'd hailed a taxi from Chelsea Wharf. When he arrived at the garage, the doors were shut, but he could hear a big argument going on. He had waited for a while and then knocked. He pointed to Donny Petrozzo's photograph. "He opened up and let me in. Mr. Collingwood was sitting in the front seat of the Mitsubishi with a wad of torn shirt held against his shoulder. He told me to pass him something clean to put on it, so I folded him a piece of lint. All the time, this Donny was going on and on, saying that he wanted to get cut in on the deal, that Julius D'Anton had told him all about it and that, if Mr. Collingwood didn't like it, he would tip off the cops as to who he really was."Adrian closed his eyes. "I saw Collingwood break open one of the ampoules. He poured it over the lint; next minute he's got hold of him." He pushed forward the photograph of Donny Petrozzo. "He covered his mouth. They struggled for a bit, then the Petrozzo guy just went limp; he slumped down on the garage floor."Langton put up his hand and asked Adrian to repeat what he had said about the ampoule. Adrian said he didn't know what it was. It was dark, and he was scared; it had happened so fast.Anna passed Langton a note. Donny Petrozzo had been injected beneath his tongue; the pathologist had found a hypodermic-needle point.Langton nodded, and folded the scrap of paper, running his fingernail along the crease. "You say Fitzpatrick simply covered Donny Petrozzo's mouth with a pad onto which he had broken an ampoule of Fentanyl?""Yes, I saw him do it." "What else did you see, Adrian? Because we don't believe you.""It's the truth, I swear—-I saw him do it; the guy just fell to the floor.""Did you leave Fitzpatrick alone for any time with the body?"Adrian frowned. "Yeah, but only for a few minutes. I went to get some cleaning fluid from off a shelf in the garage. When I came back he was leaning over the man, saying he was dead.""Did you see him administer anything else?"Adrian looked confused, but said that Fitzpatrick had been holding the man's face in his hands. He demonstrated by gripping his own cheeks. Langton looked to Anna: this could have been Fitzpatrick making 100 percent sure that Donny Petrozzo was dead, by giving him an injection beneath his tongue.Adrian continued to describe how he had cleaned up the wound to Fitzpatrick's shoulder. He was ordered to wrap Petrozzo's body in the black plastic bin liners stored in the garage. They wrapped the tape around the body and stuffed it into the back of the jeep. Together, they cleaned up the car, wiping the steering wheel down and the door handles. Adrian was told he had to get rid of the body by taking the jeep to a crusher."You just went along with it?"Adrian hung his head and said that he didn't know what else to do. He took Petrozzo's car keys and drove Fitzpatrick to the cottage. "I returned the car, his Mercedes; I left it near his home. I then went to drive the Mitsubishi out, to get it into a crusher, but I saw all the cops around, so I did nothing. I just went back to the boat.""Were you offered money to do all this?""Yes, ten thousand.""Did Fitzpatrick contact you again?""Yeah, I told him what had happened and that I wasn't able to move the jeep. He said to lie low on the boat, and contact no one. He'd be in touch; there was more money for me."The interview with Adrian was concluded by ten-fifteen. He was taken to the magistrates' court to face charges of drug trafficking, accessory to murder, and perverting the course of justice. Langton asked that bail not be granted, concerned that Alexander Fitzpatrick might try to contact him and pressing home the lethal potency of the drug.Mrs. Eatwell was a feisty old lady. Even though she was in her late eighties, she hovered around the officers, demanding to be shown each item that was removed. The forensic teams working at the cottage had found more prints, and a pillowcase with bloodstains, which were being matched with the blood from the bullet taken from the squat.They matched. However, there had still been no sign of Fitzpatrick. Although there had been numerous calls from the public after all the press releases, having sifted through the time wasters, it was clear that there had been no real sighting of their man. Pete Jenkins was still working on the print taken from the neck of Mrs. D'Anton but had, as yet, had no confirmation it was Fitzpatrick's.As the teams broke for lunch, and took a breather before the big interrogations, there came further information from the crates retrieved from Mrs. Eatwell's garage. The amount of Fentanyl was staggering. Separate, small supply boxes were numbered and packed inside larger ones; these had been stored in protective wooden crates. There were thousands of ampoules that they believed were originally destined for hospitals in the United States. The Drug Squad began to contact the U.S. drug units.Chicago had reported not only a massive theft from a pharmaceutical company, but an alarming rise in the Fentanyl problem; increases in opiate overdoses had prompted tests, which had revealed its presence. Reported overdoses were also coming in from a variety of other cities, including Detroit, St. Louis, Philadelphia, and Pittsburgh. The potency of illegally manufactured forms of Fentanyl was underlined as deadly: combined with heroin, the street names for it were "Drop Dead," "Flatlines," and "Suicide," as well as "Polo. The amount removed from Mrs. Eatwell's garage was a terrifying sign that the UK was about to be flooded with this lethal drug.Langton was deeply angry on hearing just how potentially dangerous this consignment was, had Fitzpatrick distributed it as planned. He Was now certain that Julius D'Anton, having been tipped off about the drugs, but not really aware of what they were exactly, had used Donny Petrozzo to test the waters with his dealers. They knew the junkie D Anton had not drowned, although his body was fished out of theThames; they were pretty certain that D'Anton had administered the fatal Fentanyl to himself.D'Anton's death meant that the whereabouts of the box he had stolen out of the Mitsubishi would have been unknown to Fitzpatrick. Petrozzo had been in touch with his dealers in the Chalk Farm drug squat about the Fentanyl; it must have been at some point thereafter that he contacted Fitzpatrick. Did Petrozzo know where the box was stashed? Was that why Fitzpatrick paid that disastrous visit to the squat? Anna agreed it was possible, but still found it strange that Frank Brandon would have become involved. Langton was more sanguine."I don't, sadly. You could say that about Adrian Summers. It all boils down to money. Frank, we know, had said to his girlfriend that he was coming into a big wedge of cash. What I am pretty sure about is none of them really knew just what a massive shipment Fitzpatrick had unloaded into his old lady's garage.""You think those two henchmen—-Julia’s bodyguards—are in his pay?""Unsure. More likely, they are in for the deal, and were putting the pressure on Fitzpatrick for payment." As Langton finished talking, the investigation took another turn. Pete Jenkins had lifted off the print from the neck of Mrs. D'Anton. It did not match Fitzpatrick's.Pete had sent the print to the FBI lab in the United States. It had come back with an ID of a known felon, Horatio Gonzalez, a man who had ties with the Colombian cartels, and who had already served two prison sentences for drug dealing. They now had the U.S. Drug Enforcement Agency putting pressure on them for more details. Langton became tetchy, insisting his team hold on to the reins and ordering that any evidence Pete was uncovering should be run by them first. He then asked that Damien Nolan be brought up from the cells for questioning.As Anna and Langton were preparing for the interview, files and photographs stacked in front of them, Langton gave a strange half laugh. "You know, if Frank Brandon hadn't been recognized at that drug squat, and those punks hadn't put two and two together to come up with a hell of a lot more and shot him, all this would never have gone down."