From way up here he could see the pramfaces heading home with their Iceland bags weighing down the back of their buggies. He watched an old man with two sticks make his agonizing way to the entrance of the tower block opposite. Over there, Jerome could make out a couple of his boys hanging, keeping watch. He wondered if they could feel his gaze falling down upon them like the eyes of God. That was a chunk of his power right there: his men knew, whatever they were doing, Jerome Tyson Smith was watching.

‘What ya doing, babe?’

He turned and looked at the naked woman on the bed. Carla. She had a sheet draped over her, one vast boob almost spilling loose, a foot with gold-painted toenails on display.

‘Hey, princess,’ he said, crossing to the bed and bending down. For a moment, Carla’s eyes lit up – until he ran a hand across the warm flank of the Staffordshire terrier that sat thumping her tail against the mattress.

He crouched and scratched the dog’s ear. Rihanna. She gazed at him with adoration and rolled onto her back so he could tickle her belly.

‘Yeah, you like that, RiRi. That’s right. That’s right.’ He inserted his long fingers beneath her sparkling collar and scratched, making the staffie groan with pleasure.

‘Why don’t you come over and do that to me?’ Carla pouted, lowering the sheet to give him an eyeful of her admittedly glorious nipples.

‘Give the dog a bone, huh?’ he said. She looked hopeful. No self-respect. ‘Nah. I’m gonna take RiRi out for a patrol.’

‘Ah, Jerome, you love that dog more than you love me.’

There was no point responding to that. Carla had got way too comfortable, was starting to act like his goddamn girlfriend or something. It was time to bin her. He was Jerome Tyson Smith and he just had to click his fingers and bitches came running. White, black, Asian. Private school princesses and council estate skanks. They all wanted a piece of him. One nine inch piece.

‘Come on RiRi,’ he said, smiling as his best and only friend jumped down to the floor and trotted over to him, little nails clacking on the hard floor. They headed for the door.

‘Hey Jerome,’ Carla called from the bed.

‘What?’

‘That dog – it went for me earlier. Mean lil’ bitch only tried to bite me when I come out the bathroom.’

He looked down at his dog. ‘Good girl.’