The Jewish community and the Irish were similar in a lot of respects. They were immigrants, they were disliked by the majority, and Jewish men seemed much like the Irish in the fact that they either succeeded beyond imagination or they were wasters. Both cultures, though, had an inbred cunning. The Lane, or Petticoat Lane as it was better known, traded on a Sunday because of the Jews. Like the Irish they kept to their religion no matter what else they might do. And it paid off for them.

Longshoring was the term used for a particular scam. It involved renting cheap premises, getting headed notepaper printed up and then opening accounts with suppliers. For the first couple of months, while the business was supposedly getting on its feet, you paid for your goods as invoiced, with cash off the hip. Ready money. Gradually building up your credibility as a customer. Then one day you ordered fantastic amounts from your suppliers on credit, as usual. Then you disappeared off the face of the earth with up to one hundred thousand pounds’ worth of stock. Usually electrical appliances or good clothes. Anything that could easily be sold on. This stock then found its way on to the markets, into shops and anywhere else it could be sold.

It was a very easy operation, it was patience that was needed. That was where Isaiah came in. Danny and Boysie wanted everything yesterday.

Boysie sipped his drink. ‘That was a turn up, what The Aunt told us about Liselle. I guessed though. We both did. But hearing it like, that’s a different thing.’

Daniel looked at himself in the mirror on the wall behind their desk. He patted down his hair and, licking a finger, smoothed one of his eyebrows.

‘Yeah... We’ll have to watch the rhyming slang now, Boysie. Lemonade, spade. Macaroon, coon. Whistle me dog, wog. Sounds different when it’s one of your family, don’t it? If someone called Liselle that, I’d break their fucking necks. I’d rip their heads off with me bare hands. Yet I use those terms all the time.’

‘That’s because we ain’t never known many blacks. I always liked Bessie, even as a kid. I liked that flowery smell of her when I was little ... We’ll have to stop saying front wheel skid and Yid, as well as a four be two, once old Isaiah becomes a part of the firm. Fuck me, we’re going international, ain’t we?’

Danny laughed. ‘Yeah. I’m looking forward to meeting this bloke properly, though. He ain’t a hardman, but he’s got brains. Brains we can use to our advantage. Once we get him under our wing, we’ll leave him to work on his own. He won’t tuck us up.’

Boysie laughed as he left the room. ‘He wouldn’t dare, Danny Boy.’