In the interim, Bosco had received a third blow to the cranium and had fallen flat on his face this time, hands around his opponent’s ankles. And then he tugged at them, hard. Ring-Face went over.

Bosco got to his feet. So did Ring-Face, although not for long, since Bosco launched himself at his midsection in the manner of a human spear, his bald head crashing into the man’s stomach.

No doubt about it, the crowd was cheering now. Bosco was the first to get up, and he bent down and picked up his opponent, hoisting him up before slamming him back down on to the ground.

Kieran nudged Albert hard, beaming. ‘See what I tell you? See?’

Bosco advanced on his writhing opponent, smiling wildly and picked him up again, lifting him up over his head. The man’s strength was incredible.

The crowd fell silent, the sort of quiet that precedes an explosion, as Bosco toyed with the man, raising and lowering him above his head in the manner of a weight. And then he nodded. Albert winced and turned away as Bosco, still smiling, brought his helpless opponent down, hard, while bringing his knee up to meet the small of the man’s back. The resultant crack as the man’s spine snapped was clearly audible all the way back where they were standing. The mob erupted.

Ring-Face let out a loud, piercing shriek and fell on to his face and lay still. But Bosco wasn’t done yet. Using his foot, he rolled the man over on to his back, the accompanying agonized moan bringing a smile to his face.

Kieran was looking very troubled now. ‘This is the part I don’ like. ’E’s won already, ’e don’t need to do this.’

Once, twice, three times, Bosco theatrically lifted Ring-Face’s arm up before letting go, allowing it to fall limply back on the ground. He looked around at the crowd, pointing at the blood coming out of his own nose. Then he lifted up his foot, and casually stamped down on the unconscious man’s face. Again, the crack carried all the way back, the scream probably till Bosquanet’s office. Then he did it again. And again and again, over and over again, sometimes grinding his heel down, sometimes changing feet. But he didn’t stop.

Albert turned away, unable to look, his stomach churning. He couldn’t blot out the screams, though. They went on and on, until he couldn’t take it any more and turned to Kieran, his eyes burning. ‘Can’t you do anything about this? The man can’t even fight back!’

‘No,’ said Kieran. His face seemed to have lost a little of its colour. ‘Nothing we can do. That’s ’ow it is.’

‘Well, I’m going to—!’ He opened his mouth to let out an angry yell, and found Kieran’s hand over it instead.