‘Who do you think they were?’ asked Peter.

‘What, the men who broke into the club?’ Glynn said.

Peter nodded.

‘Small time, I think. No one I recognise, anyway, so I don’t think we’ve got any worries.’

‘Maybe not,’ said Peter.

‘Think about it,’ Glynn added. ‘If they’d have been a rival firm they’d have been carrying guns or machetes or summat, not poxy little knives… Nah, if you ask me they’re just a bunch of chancers. And when they realise their friend has disappeared without a trace, we won’t hear fuck all from them. They’ve probably shit themselves.’

‘OK,’ said Peter. ‘I’ve given Adele a couple of weeks off. She’s a bit shaken so she’s gone to stay at my mam’s. I’ve told her we’ll get the place secured by the time she’s back. I want better locks on the back door, someone posted there when Adele’s working and a key-coded lock on the door from the club. D’you think you could sort that, mate?’

‘Sure. Leave it with me.’

Glynn then got up to go but Peter stopped him. ‘Hang on a minute. What about Sam? Has there been any comeback?’

‘No, we left a message at the Sportsman’s for Alan, as I told you, but I’ve heard nothing since. I would imagine they’ve seen his body by now, though. I’m wondering whether they’ll get rid of it themselves or whether they’ll leave it for the police.’

‘Well, I’ve not heard anything in the news yet so we’ll wait and see,’ said Peter. ‘How bad was it, anyway?’

‘Oh, it was bad. Mike’s a bit of a sick fuck. Kept chopping little bits off him. Then we strung him up from the girders. They’ll get one hell of a fuckin’ shock when they see him.’

Peter stared at Glynn for a few seconds, trying to hide his astonishment that Glynn and Mike had gone so far.

Glynn broke the silence. ‘Look, you said you wanted to send a message, so we didn’t piss about.’

‘No, that’s OK,’ said Peter, feigning acceptance. ‘But we’ve got to expect repercussions. I know Alan of old, and him and his crew are not gonna fuckin’ take this lying down.’

‘No problems,’ said Glynn, confidently. ‘We’ll be well ready for them.’

*

Adele was sitting in her mother’s front room, trying to brush aside her harrowing memories of killing her father in front of the fireplace where the cats were now snuggled up. She was watching the news with her mother when a headline caught her attention.

It was about a murder in Manchester. The police had found the mutilated body of a man in an abandoned warehouse. They suspected that he had been tortured to death, and were now looking for the perpetrators.