Joseph caught a strong whiff of sweat. Petey was scared, and he had every right to be. Only Joseph knew that he had no intentions of hurting him. With a boy like this, the simple suggestion that he might should do the trick.

‘Now, how much are you getting paid to do this?’

The boy swallowed. ‘Not enough.’

Joseph smiled. ‘Probably not. But now that we’ve ascertained that you are getting paid, I asked how much?’

The boy thought for a moment, but sensibly decided not to be a hero. ‘A hundred smackers a night, for three nights.’

‘And as many walls as you can cover, I suppose?’

‘Yeah.’

‘And who is it that is willing to cough up £300 for a bit of graffiti?’

‘No idea, and before you break my fingers, that’s the God’s honest truth.’

Joseph nodded. ‘Funnily enough, I believe you. So how did you get the money?’

The boy shifted uncomfortably, but Joseph just leaned a little closer and stared intently at his long, narrow fingers. ‘Come on, Petey. Tell me, and your sweet little pinkies will live to paint another day.’

‘Okay, but just get away from my hands, man! I dunno when, but someone shoved a Griffyx into my school bag.’

Joseph was startled to hear the name being used, but kept his interest hidden under a blank expression.

‘There were two fifties stuffed inside it, and a note telling me to scribe a wall with the words “Mask Wars”. If I did it, and promised to go out for three nights, I’d get 200 quid more.’

‘Nice work if you can get it! And how did they get the remaining money to you?’

Petey shivered. ‘I found it on my bed when I woke up this morning. Some freaky creep had gotten into my fucking room and left it there.’ He pulled a face. ‘That’s why I’m out here now. No way am I going to piss off someone like that. They are seriously scary people, so I really need to get on.’

‘Patience. You can, just as soon as you tell me where the tag “Griffyx” came from?’

‘Check out Lyco’s blog and follow the link to the game, then you’ll see. Now, please, mate, can I go earn my money?’

Joseph helped the boy up, then raised both hands in the air and stepped back. ‘Go do what you have to, Petey. But keep away from those guys, whoever they are. I get the feeling that they would be happy to do far worse than break a few fingers.’

Petey Redfield stared at him. ‘Who the hell are you?’