He knew he couldn’t wait until they were back in Hereford. They had at least another day on the job, guarding Seguma until his return to Karatandu. Which meant he would have to text his regular dealer later on. Arrange to meet. Tonight, preferably. He’d have to think of an excuse to get away from Kember after the party, too.

He left the Gents, started down the corridor.

Then stopped dead in his tracks.

Freddie Lang came bounding towards him from the direction of the ballroom. With a sudden panic, Bowman realised there was no way of avoiding the gangster. Before he could make a decision, Lang fronted up to him, jabbing a finger in his face.

‘Don’t I know you from somewhere?’ he joked. His fat lips spread into a grin. ‘All right, Bowman. How’s it going, son?’

There was nothing friendly in his voice, or the look in his eyes.

‘Hello, Mr Lang,’ Bowman muttered.

Lang stared closely at him from behind his thick-rimmed glasses.

‘Bit of a surprise, seeing you here. The brother-in-law of one of my top lieutenants, bodyguarding my old mate Ken Seguma. Then again, maybe not.’ He pushed up his glasses and sniffed. ‘This place is crawling with fucking filth.’

He spat out the last word. Bowman said nothing. He glanced past the huge rock of the mobster’s shoulder, praying that Kember or one of the other guys from the team didn’t catch sight of them.

‘A little birdie told me you’re in the army these days,’ said Lang. ‘Is that right?’

‘Yes, Mr Lang.’

His throat constricted. Sweat beaded his forehead. He had to get away from Lang, but he couldn’t risk pissing the guy off.

Lang tutted and wagged a finger at Bowman, like a schoolteacher lecturing a misbehaving student.

‘You see, you’ve made two bad choices in your life. Joining the pigs, that was number one. Then this business of enlisting in the army. Bunch of bleeding mugs. You should have taken a leaf out of your brother-in-law’s book and worked for me.’

Bowman didn’t reply. He stole another glance past Lang’s enormous shoulder. If I’m spotted with Lang, it’ll kill my career.

‘Don’t say much, do you, Bowman?’

‘Sorry, Mr Lang,’ Bowman said. He shifted on his feet. ‘I can’t really talk. I’m working tonight.’

‘So I heard.’ Lang’s eyes narrowed to slits. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I can’t discuss it.’

‘Top secret, is it?’

‘I really can’t say, Mr Lang,’ Bowman replied firmly.

Lang grinned. ‘I guess you know all about secrets, don’t you?’

Bowman stood still but said nothing. Lang stepped into his face.

‘You’ve been a naughty boy, Bowman. Very naughty. You’ve got a bit of a habit, so I’ve heard.’

He tapped a finger against his nose conspiratorially. Bowman felt a cold shiver run down his spine.