‘I’m not like them, Moshe. No rules. No laws. So, either you answer my questions, or your little apprentice will be watching mame sit shiva for his grandad.’ I pinned him firmly with my left hand. ‘I’ve come a long way. And believe me, I’ve got nothing left to lose.’ He was breathing hard, rasping cigarette-scented breath into my face. ‘Or maybe I should kill him instead. What do you think? You, or the boy?’

‘No. Please.’ He rasped. ‘You don’t understand. I can’t …’

I pushed the muzzle into his eye socket. The metal split the skin by the bridge of his nose. He squealed with pain.

‘Sure, you can. You know Rachel Levy, don’t you?’

He began to cry. I pressed the SIG further into his eye.

‘Baaz, go and get the kid.’

‘Man, this is fucked up.’

‘Just do it.’

Baaz stepped hesitantly away from us. I cocked the hammer of the SIG.

‘OK, stop,’ Moshe begged, barely able to get the words out. ‘Please. Yes. Yes, I know her.’

I pulled the barrel clear of his skull and released my left hand. He collapsed on to his hand and knees, clutching his face. Deep sobs welled up inside him.

‘And?’

‘She asked me,’ he said, ‘to change that bill.’

‘Why? Why did she ask that?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Look at me.’ He kept his head low, hands on the floor. His body shook. ‘Look at me, God damn you.’ He raised his palms in supplication. Tears and snot matted his moustache and beard. Blood pooled in his eye and dripped along the side of his nose. ‘Did you forge the notes?’

‘No. I swear. It was the Russians. That’s the truth. I told you the truth. I was trying to help you.’

‘A lot of people are these days. Which Russians?’

‘I don’t know which Russians. The Russians. Those notes have been around for years. I only changed the number on that bill. That’s all. I’m innocent, I swear.’

I brought the SIG to bear in the middle of his forehead. If you threaten someone with a weapon, there are only two rules: be sure they can’t use it against you; and be sure you’re prepared to use it. There was no way Moshe was going to wrestle the SIG away from me. And, by this point, pulling the trigger was just a formality. Colour and sound ebbed out of the world. My ears filled with the flat hum that comes just before a kill. My mind emptied, tethered to the bullet. Suddenly it was just me and him. Nothing, no one else existed. Of the many things Moshe might have been, innocent wasn’t on the list.

‘Why you? Why did she come to you?’