‘Certainly, Mr Vernon.’ Harry lifted the bar flap and moved out. ‘Right, on your way, mate.’

‘I’ll go when I’m ready,’ Craig said pleasantly.

Harry’s right hand fastened on Craig’s collar and they went through the door with a rush to a chorus of laughter from Stratton and Carver. As the door to the alley burst open, Sailor ducked behind a packing case and waited.

Harry was grinning widely, an arm around Craig’s throat. ‘We don’t like fancy sods like you coming around here annoying the customers.’ He didn’t get the chance to say anything else. Craig’s right elbow swung back sharply connecting just beneath the ribs and, as Harry swung back gasping, he pivoted on one foot.

‘You should never let anyone get that close. They haven’t been teaching you properly.’

Harry gave a cry of rage and sprang forward, his right fist swinging in a tremendous punch. Craig grabbed for the wrist with both hands and twisted it round and up so that he held him in a Japanese shoulder lock. Harry cried out in agony and still keeping that terrible hold in position, Craig ran him head-first into the stack of packing cases. As he bent down to retrieve his umbrella, Vernon appeared in the doorway, Carver and Stratton crowding behind him. Craig nodded briefly. ‘I’ll be in touch, Vernon,’ he said and walked briskly away.

It was perhaps ten minutes later that the ’phone rang on Nick Miller’s desk in the main C.I.D. room. He picked up the receiver at once and a familiar voice roughened by years of drink and disease sounded in his ear.

‘That you, Sergeant Miller? This is Sailor – Sailor Hagen. I’m ringing from a call box in City Square. I’ve got something good for you. What’s it worth?’

‘Depends what it’s about,’ Miller said.

‘The bloke who took over Harry Faulkner’s place, the Flamingo. Max Vernon.’

Miller was already on his feet. ‘I’ll meet you by the fountain in five minutes,’ he said and hung up.

When Miller was shown in, Vernon was in the main casino looking over arrangements for the evening opening. ‘You’re getting to be a permanent fixture around here,’ he said.

‘You can cut out the funny stuff,’ Miller told him. ‘What happened at the Bull & Bell?’

‘I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.’

‘Duncan Craig visited you there no more than an hour ago. As I understand it, he threatened to kill you.’

Vernon leaned against the edge of the roulette table and laughed gently. ‘Someone’s been pulling your leg, old man.’

‘This is serious, Vernon,’ Miller said. ‘I don’t give a damn what happens to you, but I do care what happens to Duncan Craig.’