Then he looked at the victim’s face. It came to him almost immediately. Without a doubt, he had seen this guy before. Even the where and when popped into his head without a moment’s further thought. He closed his eyes and saw the same guy sitting in that bar, sipping his beer, playing with his mobile phone. It was just like watching a video.Why had he been there?Why was he here?And why had he been executed?Warren Shen moved out of the way and let the ambulance crew lift the corpse onto the stretcher. Adopting the air of a curious onlooker, he watched the forensics team packing up before they headed back to the West Hampstead station. One of the bullets had been recovered, lodged in the wall by the door. The other, as far as anyone could tell, was still in Merrett’s brain. Shen had a pretty good idea who had put it there. Wandering over to the window, he gazed down on the ambulance waiting by the kerb.‘That’s him.’Shen turned to see the victim’s colleague, Rose Scripps, identify the body with a nod.
