Nikki stared at him thoughtfully. ‘Well, I suppose you have been helpful to me.’

Darren nodded furiously. ‘Yeah. Gave you a name, didn’t I?’

‘Mmm.’ She sighed. ‘But sadly it doesn’t work like that. Not with a stinking dealer.’

‘I‘m no dealer! Search me if you don’t believe me!’

‘Oh, I’m sure you’ve nothing on you.’ She shrugged. ‘Because you sold your last batch to that skinny little tart who’s been buying from you outside Harry’s Club, didn’t you?’

Darren’s eyes narrowed.

‘I see you remember her. White-blonde hair, black spikes, too much make-up and no tits? She’s one of ours, Darren. And the twenties that she gave you, the ones tucked up cosily in your wallet, are marked. Your prints will be all over the bag of crystal meth that you sold her which, incidentally, is already in an evidence bag and on its way to the police lab. So, along with that nasty knife you so kindly gave me—?’

Darren’s face screwed up into a mask of fear and anger. ‘Stinking pig! You said you’d help me.’ He almost spat the words at her.

‘I lied.’

‘You fucking set me up!’

‘I did. And funny thing, but I’m not exactly eaten up by remorse.’ She pushed harder against his groin. ‘You see, in my book, if you deal drugs, you deal death. And me and my colleagues have to sit with the families, breathe in the heartbreak and the agonizing pain that scum like you cause. And we don’t like it, Darren. We don’t like the fact that you make vulnerable kids turn to violence, to mugging old ladies to get money to feed their habit. A habit that you are so happy to fuel.’

‘If they didn’t get it from me, they’d get it from someone else!’

‘Jesus! Don’t give me that age-old crap! You’re disgusting. You’re like some flesh-eating virus infecting society, and making a wad of money out of your victims.’ She jerked her knee forward and felt a small satisfaction from the ensuing scream.

‘You can’t do this! I’ll have you! I know my rights!’