Leaving his car parked well away from the danger zone, Joseph changed his shoes for a pair of black trainers, and slipped on a black zipper jacket with a deep hooded collar. There was no point in making himself obvious. He’d just blend.

The air around him felt heavy, like when a thunder storm was imminent. He hoped it would hold off, as a downpour would not provide the greatest conditions for decorating the council’s exterior walls. And he would dearly like to meet young Piet.

With his hood pulled up, he sauntered silently through the streets in search of his four likely spots. On the third, he got lucky.

He didn’t so much see his mark as hear him. That singular sound of a can being shaken. The tinny rattle of the bearing inside was unmistakable.

‘Perfect,’ he whispered, as he slid like a shadow along the side of a darkened building. He was careful, because there could be a whole gang waiting around the corner, but somehow Joseph doubted it. If money was at the heart of Petey’s new venture, he probably wouldn’t want to share it. Not only that, graffiti kids usually worked solo. He just hoped Petey was a loner.

For a while, Joseph hung back in the darkness and watched the artist at work. If he hadn’t been defacing public property, Joseph would have been full of admiration.

Petey Redfield worked on stilts. The sort you see plasterers wear to enable them to reach higher without the use of ladders. They strap to the legs and give the arms freedom of use.

Very neat, thought Joseph, although probably not too clever if you need to make a run for it. The kid worked fast and with considerable skill. It was almost a shame to interrupt him. But as the Guv’nor had already said, this was not a nice area to hang around in, so he really needed to deal with young Petey as speedily as possible.

‘Evening, Mr Redfield. Not quite good enough for the Academy, but close.’ Joseph grabbed a firm hold on the boy’s wide belt. ‘’Fraid I need a quiet word.’

‘What the fuck…?’

Without another word Joseph yanked him backwards, caught him, and laid him on his back on the ground.

‘Just a few words, then I’m going to disappear into the night, and you can continue to paint the town red, or sky-blue-pink, for all I care.’ He tightened his hold and Petey yelped.

‘Okay! Okay! You the fuzz?’

‘Not tonight.’ Joseph leaned over the boy. ‘Now, I really don’t want to hurt those talented fingers, but if I have to, I can arrange it that you never paint again, unless you use your toes, of course. Catch my drift?’

‘I said, okay, man! What do you want?’