The hall was laid with a new carpet. The living-room door was open and Ma Boyle sat royally in her chair. She was fat, with a face like a toad, warts and all. On top of her head was a startling mop of bright yellow permed hair that was more suitable for Shirley Temple than the leader of one of Scotland’s biggest criminal families. Ma Boyle stared up at Moses and a smile cracked her face. ‘It’s good to see you, son…take a seat.’ She pointed to the chair opposite her. Moses sat down, still clutching the shotgun. I didn’t know who was more mad–the old woman for treating him like a kid, or Moses for visiting Ma Boyle with a sawn-off shotgun as his calling card.

‘Cup of tea?’ she asked, and then, without waiting for a reply, shouted, ‘Mary, put the kettle on.’ I could hear rustling in the kitchen, but that was the only noise. Moses and Ma Boyle just stared at one another. She seemed to be drinking in every detail of his face. After several long moments she pushed her great bulk up from the chair, waddled over to a cabinet in the corner and pulled down the top lid to search inside. I eyed Moses, warning him to be careful. I assumed that Ma Boyle was looking for a gun. But he shook his head, dismissing me. After she found what she was searching for, she sat back down in the chair; it thumped back against the wall.

‘What brings you here, Moses?’ she asked.

I stiffened. The old bitch knew fine well what the problem was. She had ignored me from the minute I got in, yet the order to torch the Fat Boy and Kenny Cameron’s house must have come from her. None of her family acted without her say-so.

‘Where’s Glasgow Joe?’ Moses asked. His voice was calm and reasonable.

Ma Boyle stared at him. ‘Are you sure that’s what you want to talk about?’

‘Where’s Glasgow Joe?’ Moses asked again.

‘Listen, so…do I look stupid?’ she asked, answering herself quickly, ‘No, and neither is Glasgow Joe. There’s no way he would start a war over a bike. It was necessary that the stupid bitch behind all of this knows that she was out of order and Joe understands that. He also knows it won’t go any further.’

Moses eyed her up and down as I remained invisible to Ma Boyle. Then he stood up and went to walk away. I stopped him.

‘Brodie, she doesn’t have Joe,’ he said, then he shrugged me off. ‘Let’s get out of here fast, we’re wasting our time. Joe hasn’t called, he hasn’t been in touch–there’s something wrong.’ Ma Boyle moved faster than I would have thought possible and, before I could stop her, she grabbed Moses’s arm.