“See? I fucking telt ye!” Frankie spat, puffing himself up like he was getting ready for a square-go. “I’m gonnae get you two pricks fuckin’ fired, or… ex-communicated, or whatever the fuck it is you do.”

Logan ignored him, and addressed the older Cowan, instead. “And where did this information come from, Shuggie?” he asked. “What makes you so sure?”

Shuggie tilted his head towards Budge. “Brendan here is an old family friend. He’s been bringing me up to date with my nephew’s… antics. He tells me that much to Frankie’s frustration, he had no idea where Archie and his family were. Says he had no involvement in their deaths.”

“And you believe him?” Logan asked.

Shuggie nodded. “I do.”

Frankie jabbed a finger at Logan. “See? What did I fuckin’ well say?” he seethed. He strutted up to Hoon, teeth bared and flecked with foamy spit. “Check you oot. No’ so fuckin’ tough now that I’ve got—”

The hand came out of nowhere, and the crack of the slap rang out across the rooftop. Frankie staggered, clutching at his cheek, his face burning red with embarrassment, or rage, or some highly unstable cocktail of the two.

“Oh, you are fucked now, pal! You are royally fucked now!” Frankie said, the words giggling hysterically out of him. He clicked his fingers. “Budge! Fuck this prick up!”

He waited.

Far down below, the city held its breath.

Frankie turned and looked back over his shoulder. “Budge?”

“What are you waiting for?” asked Paco, eyes darting from the big man to Frankie and back again. “Go and help him.”

“Brendan doesn’t say much,” Shuggie said. He reached into his pocket, produced a packet of cigarettes, and drew one out. “He’s like his father in that regard. A man of few words.” He held a hand out, and Budge passed him a lighter. He lit the cigarette, drew in a lungful, then handed the lighter back. “When you get him talking, though, he says some very interesting things.”

Some of that confidence that had swelled Frankie’s chest was ebbing away now. “What sort of things?”

Shuggie ignored the question for the moment. “I was coming here to break the news to Frankie about the sad passing of our mutual acquaintance.” An eyelid twitched. A hand flexed, then contracted. “Wee Jazzy. Lovely girl. A favourite of Archie’s. And mine, actually. Very infectious laugh she had.” He smiled at the thought of it. “Do anything for you, too. And, though you wouldn’t think it to look at her, a real tough cookie when it came to negotiating her contracts. The other girls, they’d bring her in to make their deals for them. She always managed to get their fees bumped up. Never took a cut, though. Just liked to be helpful.”

“Sounds like a fine young woman,” Logan said.