His head hurt with philosophy. The time for thinking was over.

He had a vague idea that he knew how to get to the address. It was some warehouse on the edge of the estate. He went alone, unafraid and confident. Hatred burned his blood.

The afternoon was getting darker by the second, and he pushed his hands into his pockets and put up his hood. No one paid him any attention as he navigated his way to the other side of the estate. He doubled back on himself several times and went round the houses a few times, but eventually he found it.

Now that he’d found the right area, he needed to get the warehouse lot correct. He walked underneath the treeline to the side of the road. The streets were all in darkness but he didn’t want to take any chances. There seemed to be no indication that anything had happened here. Surely if there’d been a police raid, there would be flashing lights and tape everywhere?

But he remembered that his last impression of Will had been one of suspicion. What if he was bent and he hadn’t called the information in? Maybe he was there in the warehouse now, warning the Cotton brothers, or making deals? All of these possibilities whirred around in his head.

Finally he found a sign pointing to the lot number he’d been given, and approached the building slowly. He tried the door at the front: it was locked, so he walked around the back and saw a light burning in an upstairs window. There was a metal stairway leading up to it. He took the stairs, staying vigilant in case anyone showed up. The place was silent, and he was pretty sure the cops hadn’t been here.

He took care on the stairs, making sure he didn’t make a sound and alert whoever was inside. When he reached the top, he found himself on a kind of landing, leading to a door. He tried the door and it opened. The light was coming from one of the rooms beyond. His heart pounded in his chest as he tiptoed towards it. He heard voices, and smelled weed. The interior door had a glass panel. He peered inside and saw two men: one was Adam Cotton. As the other man turned, Jordan realised it was Adam’s brother, Jason and that the two were having a heated argument.

‘They’ll come,’ said Jason.

Adam paced up and down. ‘The others aren’t coming back.’

‘We don’t need them. I told them to fuck off; it was only a matter of time before they ratted on us. As soon as Jackson gets here, we’ll go.’

‘We can’t trust him.’

‘We can.’