OK, thought Abbott, his sidearm still at the back of Marky’s head. What have we got? Four goons in total, all of them armed, guns within reaching distance for Doyle and even Mrs Doyle if she wanted one. Impossible odds, but what other choice did he have?

Right. He had to do it. The mission would be a failure. At least he’d take some of them with him.

‘There was one other thing, boss,’ said McGregor suddenly.

‘Yeah? What was that, then?’

‘His gun. Morris said it was fully loaded, but you know what Morris is like with guns. He also said that it had recently been fired.’

‘Did he now?’ smiled Doyle, looking at Abbott, who swore he’d never seen a man look so shark-like.

It was time.

Abruptly, Abbott shifted the muzzle of the Glock away from the back of Marky’s head, dropping slightly in a two-handed combat stance and squeezing off his first.

Nothing happened.

Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

Idiot.

Amateur.

They’d unloaded his weapon. Of course they had. Taken out the live rounds and replaced them. Or maybe just the top two live rounds.

Either way.

Dead man’s click.

Equivalent of standing there with your dick in your hand.

Turkey.

The gun was grabbed from him. Cynthia Doyle pulled a face, shaking her head as though disgusted while Doyle lit the latest cigarette, looking more amused than anything. ‘Didn’t I tell you, Mr Abbott, that if there’s one thing I hate it’s being taken for a mug?’ His lighter flared. ‘Darren, go and start the meat grinder, would you?’

Marky was standing, brushing himself down. His demeanour immediately changing as he dropped the performance. He drew his gun, grinning at Abbott. All guns in the room were drawn now. Even Cynthia Doyle had picked one up. Darren did as he was told and left the room, and a second later, they heard the metallic crunch of the meat grinder starting up, its rusted, bloodstained blades beginning to move.

‘How did you know?’ asked Abbott.

‘Do you know what? It didn’t even occur to me that you’d bother to take the dead geezer’s identity,’ said Doyle cheerfully. ‘I mean, it’s all a bit spy film, ain’t it? It was McGregor who put the idea in my head, like maybe just killing Scutter might not be enough for Abbott, and a way of hitting us harder was to get inside our operation, know what I mean? Soon as the thought occurred to me it was like everything fell into place. I called up London, spoke to Kilgore, who emailed me a picture of Abbott.’