‘Gun safe,’ I shouted, letting go of it. But did Asquith have more ammunition in his pocket? Indeed, he seemed to be reaching for some with his left hand.

Chico let go of Asquith’s face and jumped down from his back, but he was far from finished with him. With the threat of being shot having receded, at least for the time being, Chico was able to move round in front of Asquith and employ some of his more conventional Japanese fighting skills.

In spite of Asquith being some six inches taller than Chico, or maybe because of it, Chico was able to turn his back into Asquith, take the taller man’s right arm over his own right shoulder and, by first bending his knees and then sharply straightening them, toss the older man clean over his head in a full somersault, slamming him down hard onto the turf in a classic judo throw.

The sharp impact of his back with the ground audibly drove the air from Asquith’s lungs. I stepped over to him and trod on his right wrist, pinning it to the floor. I leaned down to remove the Webley from his hand, but still he resisted. So I moved my foot slightly and trod hard on the pistol grip itself, jamming his thumb underneath.

He cried out in agony, but I didn’t care. If anything, I trod on it even harder, applying all my weight through the ball of my foot.

‘Let go of the gun and I’ll remove my foot,’ I said down to him.

He looked up at me and nodded ever so slightly.

Without removing my foot completely, I eased the pressure somewhat and again leaned down to take the gun with my left hand.

This time he did not resist.

I held the gun only by the barrel. Even if Asquith had only handled the gun with his gloves on, I didn’t want to put my prints, or rather those of my transplant donor, on the grip for the police to find.

‘What now?’ Chico asked.

I could definitely now hear approaching sirens. They were closer but still some distance off.

‘We watch out in case the hired help turns up. Where’s Valance?’

‘Over there,’ Chico said, pointing off to the side.

I stuffed the Webley into my coat pocket and picked up one of the flashlights.

‘You watch him,’ I said, shining the flashlight straight at Asquith, who was still lying face-up on the ground. ‘If he moves at all, smack him on the head with your rock. And don’t worry about killing him. We’ll just claim it was self-defence.’

Chico grinned at me, which was more than could be said for Asquith’s reaction.