If only she could be made to go to America where her records sold like hot cakes, they would be set. But nothing he or anyone else said would get her there. She’d go to France, anywhere in Europe, but never to the States. Jonathan la Billière had tried to talk her into going over to Hollywood for a holiday, but she had flatly refused. That had fazed even Victor. Jonathan la Billière, the biggest movie star in the whole world, and Kerry had turned him down! Even a pretend romance would have hit all the papers, Victor would have made sure of it. He’d have personally written the copy! La Billière was an old family friend; they went back years apparently. Unlike most women who would have shouted this fact out straight away, he had found it out through a mutual friend. But the fact remained, Kerry would not go anywhere near America and if you wanted a fight with her, you just tried to force that issue. They had been offered a staggering fifty thousand pounds for her to appear at Madison Square Garden and she had coolly declined. Victor could have cried.

He had even tried to speak to that sister of hers, the one who ran the whorehouses, but she had politely told him to get on his bike. Oh, in nicer words than that, but that had been the general drift.

Still, he consoled himself, Kerry was being good at the moment, she was turning up at the right places at the right time and she wasn’t always plastered. Her daughter played a big part in that. She watched her mother like a hawk. Between them they’d see her all right, and maybe get her overseas one day.

Dickie Lawson found the twins in Soho. It was early-evening and they were having a drink in Tommy Lane’s club, The Bolthole. Dickie looked at the two of them and took a deep swallow as he plucked up courage to go over to them.

The club was small and select and it cost a fiver to get in. The people who used The Bolthole wanted to be somewhere where the police, wives, girlfriends, or even Military Police during the war, couldn’t get to them. Dickie had paid over his fiver, signed himself in and now he had to walk into the lion’s den.

He could have kicked himself for trying to tuck the twins up with the bets. He felt faint every time he thought about it. Everywhere he went they were being talked about. Anyone who’d shoot a McNee in the legs and blow up Kenny Riley was guaranteed to frighten Old Nick himself, let alone a small-time hustler like Dickie Lawson. Plucking up courage, he went over to them. Boysie and Danny watched him approach them in the bar mirror. He stood behind them uncertainly for a few seconds before he spoke.