‘You been visited by two pigs, innit.’ Jason leaned forward as if to intimidate Jackson. The only thing that intimidated him was the number of arseholes in front of him, not any of them individually. He sized them up. There were five males in total. Each one he’d personally witnessed visit grievous harm on young lads on the estate. Each had passed the threshold for the type of violence requiring zero empathy for the victim. There was no doubt about what they carried under their hoodies. These guys were always tooled up. There was also no doubt in his mind that one of the young men standing in his garage had been Adam Cotton’s protégé on Wednesday morning in Potton Park. Most of them looked as though they were stoned, except Jason, who was switched on, as usual. That was a worry. They were evenly matched physically, but he’d never known Jason go into a fight on his own; he always had accomplices and weapons.

If they were tooled with intent, then Jackson stood no chance and had to plan an exit fast.

‘So what? I said nuffin’. You know they use me like they use you, it’s no different. They’re bent, bruv, and worried about the killin’ of the rich woman in the park. She was important.’

Jason looked at his brother, who bit his lip and walked away, sitting down heavily and lighting a pre-rolled zoot. There was a coolness between them, and Jackson noticed that, whoever this woman was, her death was a problem. He’d seen one of the officers on TV this morning, sitting with the family of the murdered woman. Maybe the heat was as a result of the woman being respectable and not from the estate. It was a random attack, all right, but the wrong one. Adam Cotton was in trouble and he knew it. But what did they want with Jackson?

‘How do we know you’re not lyin’, fam?’

‘You known me long enough, Jason. I’m telling the truth.’

‘What you do with what we gave you?’ Adam asked.

The girls grew bored and one sauntered over to a sofa and promptly fell asleep.

‘I did what you said, like I always do. Why would I do anything else? I’m not stupid!’

‘He’s fucking lying, Jason!’ Adam was a loose cannon.

‘Shut the fuck up, Adam, you ain’t got nuffin’ to say.’

Adam slunk back and shut up, glaring at Jackson, obviously desperate to find a way back into his brother’s trust. One way would be to divert interest from himself to Jackson.

‘You’ve got a short memory, Adam,’ said Jackson. ‘Like when I saved your pussy at least the last three times you were knifed. Barrow? Lancaster? Glasgow?’