‘Do you have any influence?’ I asked Moses. He knew people inside every jail in Scotland, and for the price of a packet of fags he could arrange most things. ‘If you wanted the bastard dead,’ he sniffed, ‘it would be easy to get him in the shower with a pair of scissors or a sharpened comb.’ He stared up into the sky. The moon broke its cover and shone down on us, highlighting the worry lines on his face. He shook his head and continued. ‘This requires coercion, and I don’t know the bastard, don’t know his weak spots. Would he be bothered if I threatened his wife?’ he asked hopefully.

‘No way. He’d probably pay you,’ I said.

‘That’s the problem with bastards like Marshall–he’s got nothing to lose. It’s very difficult to negotiate with someone like that.’ Moses rested his chin in his hands, and his eyes looked up at me, like the kid he still was, waiting and just hoping that someone would somehow fix everything one day.

‘There is just no way I can fix this, Moses. I can’t phone the authorities and ask them to bring Marshall out. There’s paperwork, procedures and protocols that have to be followed.’ He said nothing, just puffed his lips out. He had thought of something, and it was difficult for him to swallow. The same idea had occurred to me but I dismissed it, all the while hoping I could come up with something else.

‘Bancho,’ we said in unison. Moses stopped slouching, sat up straight and pushed away from the table.

‘Bancho cares about Joe,’ I said, listing the pros of the solution.

Moses rubbed his nose, a sure sign he thought I was lying. ‘No, forget it. Bancho cares about Bancho, even if they did work together on that sex trafficking thing last year. You know the rules–Joe doesn’t involve the police in his business.’ I opened my mouth to speak. ‘No police,’ interrupted Moses.

‘Okay smartarse, what’s your solution?’ I snapped.

‘Follow Patsy Barnes, find out where she has him?’ he asked.

‘That was the original plan, then you fucked up and she spotted you!’ I snipped at him.

‘I know. That was weird. No one spots me in the shadows. It’s how I survived all these years. Do you have any idea who the fuck this woman is?’ I shook my head. ‘The only photograph I’ve seen of DI Sam Jones was out of focus and taken ten years ago. With hair dye, make-up, weight gain or loss and age…it’s difficult to know who you are dealing with.’

Moses nodded. ‘I still can’t believe anyone was able to take Joe,’ he shook his head. ‘I mean…it’s Joe for fuck’s sake. It’s Joe.’

‘I’m responsible; I introduced them. By doing that I vouched for her,’ I said, my voice cracking.