He hated the way Glynn made him feel. As a career criminal Peter had never shied away from doing what had to be done. But there was something about Glynn that was beginning to unsettle him. He had a naturally dominant personality. In fact, his personality was so forceful that he could take over without you even realising it. And that was exactly what Peter wanted to avoid.

For the past few weeks Peter had felt as though things were slipping away from him. He could see it in the attitudes of his men whenever they were around him; particularly Glynn. He knew he was losing their trust, and the pressure was on him to win it back. And the way to do that would be to make sure his men, and everyone else, knew who was top dog.

Peter jumped when he heard the doorbell. That would be Glynn now, full of his usual charm and confidence. Peter straightened himself up and took several deep breaths, ready to show Glynn who was boss.

Glynn was calm and business like as he walked through the door and gave a sharp nod of his head. His face bore a grave expression.

‘I’ve got ’em,’ he said, slinging a large hessian sack on the table, then rolling it down till its contents were exposed.

Peter tried to suppress a sharp intake of breath as he peered inside the sack. He stepped forward to get a better view. There was no doubt that Glynn had come prepared. An assortment of metal gleamed under the ceiling light. Peter did a quick mental inventory: machetes, meat cleavers, hunting knives and crow bars. He tried to act casual as he eyed the deadly arsenal.

‘You’ve done well,’ he said.

‘Told you I’d sort it,’ said Glynn. ‘Take your pick. I’m taking a fuckin’ machete. I’ll make sure no bastard tries it on with me.’

Peter grabbed a crow bar, gripping it tightly in his right hand and running the fingers of his left hand smoothly along the length of it in mock admiration. ‘This’ll do for me,’ he said, as he began to tap it against the palm of his left hand, disguising his growing unease. ‘I tell you what,’ he said, putting down the crow bar and grabbing a machete, then pulling it out of its sheath, ‘I’ll take this as well.’

Glynn looked at him, confused. ‘Why d’you need both?’ he asked.

‘Crow bar to do the job and machete for back-up,’ said Peter. ‘Look, there’s straps to tie it round your leg so it’s easy to carry. No one will fuck about with you when you’ve got one of those in yer hand.’

Glynn grinned at him. ‘Not fuckin’ daft, are you?’ he said.