Kenny Riley was so annoyed his face was coming out in red blotches. His breathing was painful and his fists ached from clenching them. He looked at his right-hand man, Michael Money, and sighed.

‘I want those Cavanaghs given a lesson they’ll never forget, do you get my drift? I think they’re a pair of little piss-takers who need to be taught a few manners!’

Michael Money nodded. He was still reeling from the shock of the shooting himself. The fact that the twins had turned up at the pub after and had chatted to him as if nothing had happened scared him. Scared him very much. Boysie was a nutter, a temper merchant, but Danny now, he was a different ball game. He was cute, he was clever, and by Christ if he was the brains behind the two, then they’d all better watch their backs. He didn’t say this to Kenny Riley though, he knew when to keep his peace. At the moment Kenny was on a short fuse and anyone who lit the match under it was guaranteed a long stay in the Mile End Hospital.

‘What about their aunt, Kenny? She ain’t exactly Snow White.’

Kenny clenched his teeth and said sarcastically in a high voice: ‘Oh, are we frightened of women as well as children now then? Shall I run home and get me old Mum to sort it all out for me? Eh? Shall I, Micky? Or how about me and you make some jam sandwiches and go for a nice picnic in Victoria Park, and when we come back all the naughty boys might be indoors having a bath and eating their tea! Bollocks to Briony Cavanagh! . Bollocks to all the Cavanaghs! Go out and get them and bring them here to me. I have a few words to say to them that might just frighten the little fuckers enough to make them leave me and mine alone.’

Michael Money nodded his head furiously and backed out of the room. As he looked around the crowded offices of Riley and Co. in Bethnal Green, at men, some too old to be villains really, some far too young, at the caches of guns and other paraphernalia garnered over the years, he felt a feeling of foreboding. Young the Cavanagh twins were, but frightened? Not a chance. Especially not Boysie. Boysie was a bona fide nutter, that was well known. Now he had the task, the frightening task, of telling them that Kenneth Riley Esquire wanted to see them. He didn’t know at that time who he was the more scared of, the Rileys or the Cavanaghs.

He soon found out.