‘Ha ha, yeah. One minute you’re blowing things up in the Middle East, the next you’re selling water features in Middle England.’ Ward sighed. ‘Look, I know what the right answer is. I’m supposed to tell you that I’ve never been happier. Never felt more content. And if you came here two years ago, when Lou was alive, then I’d have told you that, and it would have been the truth. Now, I’m not so sure. Put it this way, when you got in touch my first thought was that you needed me for a job. And my first thought after that was that I hoped you did.’

‘Well, I do,’ said Abbott. ‘It’s a job that requires your skill set. Or will, if everything goes to plan.’

Ward nodded. ‘Then I’m in.’

‘One thing, though,’ said Abbott.

‘Yes?’

‘I’m not taking you into any danger. You do what you do best and stay away from any bullets, OK? I’m not having Graham be orphaned.’

‘So there’s real risk, is there?’

‘This isn’t some soft private security gig.’

‘OK, I’m interested. You got my attention. Give me a figure.’

‘The job is worth a million. It’s a million for what will be preparation then a night’s work. A million to be split between you, Miller and Brace, provided they also agree to sign up.’

‘What about you? What do you stand to gain?’

‘Me? For me this is personal.’

Chapter 36

CHAPTER 36

‘Miller, are you wearing fake tan, mate?’

It struck Abbott that his old team was a group of guys he knew well enough to trust them with his life and knew that they could trust him with theirs in return. And yet, he had never really experienced the civilian version of them. Freddie Ward’s passion for gardening, for example, had come as something of a surprise, and while he had always known that Miller was a little on the vain side – you couldn’t hide a thing like that, even in the field – he hadn’t realised how evolved it was.

Abbott looked around. Miller’s gym – called, appropriately, The Mill – was hidden away in a corner of North London. None of your Holmes Place. This was a proper, old-style joint, just short of a boxing gym. But, although it had all the hallmarks of a place where grown men spent hours perspiring heavily – in other words, it reeked – it was well-kept, tidy, properly maintained.

Like its owner. Miller had always been buff, but never quite as toned and sculpted as he was now. And then, yes, there was the question of the fake tan. Abbott suspected that there was quite a bit of depilation involved in the current upkeep of Miller, too. Back, sack and crack, all that.

Still, aside from all that, the same Miller.