The second paragraph from Chapter 3:

And it was all so unfair. He’d [“he” = Billy Grebber, who will be bumped off soon] always tried to keep his nose clean. Well, more or less. What was the point of making a pile of dosh, if you were looking over your shoulder all the time for the fuzz – or worse? And as for duffing up the opposition, or having a ruck with every geezer who tried it on, well, leave it out. Look at Tel, who’d ended up splattered all over a car park in Bethnal Green for coming the old soldier with that tearaway from Brum. Or Tel’s brother for that matter, going slowly crazy in Parkhurst.

I actually thought that I had read all of the Target novelisations, but I had forgotten about this, the last of them, published in 1994 just after the broadcast of the Pertwee/Sladen/Courtney radio series on which it was based. I thought the original story was pretty poor