The rules being that each of them could call one meeting in each calendar year. Either on their own behalf, or for another member of the group, if favours were in order. To deal with petty disputes. Boundary questions. Accidental border clashes. And all the other small matters that might otherwise become a distraction. Or end up costing more than they were worth. On occasion they had even been known to ask Sebnem to mediate a solution. Respecting both her common sense and the fact that she gave no shits for any of them. All being sworn to respect her impartial decision.

But this was different. This meeting had been called by Joe, at short notice. And everyone present knew why. Joe looked around the table and then started talking. Looking at each of them in turn as he spoke. His voice level. No anger, perfectly rational. Sending some messages. One: this is just about business. Two: I am confident that I will deal with this. Three: I will be watching to see how you all respond to what I say.

‘It doesn’t take a genius to work out why I’ve called the meeting. You know that someone’s been hitting my operation. Hitting it hard. One of my dealers was shot dead. Looking like a pro hit. Then one of my cash collections was ambushed. Five good men killed and the money torched. A lot of money. And now one of my facilities has been attacked. Employees beaten senseless. Then the police called. My people nicked and my merchandise confiscated.’

Merchandise. That got a few tight smiles around the table. Especially from Albie. Who preferred the old-fashioned term “toms” to describe prostitutes. No matter where they’d come from.

‘You know that this was nothing to do with any of us. We all have equivalent facilities. We’re all equally vulnerable to reprisal.’

Joe nodded at the speaker. One of the two women present. Neither of them apparently seeing anything strange in discussing the liberation of trafficked prostitutes in business terms.

‘I believe that to be the case. These appear to be the actions of a single person. Male, age unknown. Highly proficient with firearms. A gunfighter, from the footage I’ve seen. Good at hand to hand as well. And well informed. Very well informed.’

‘So you got a rat? Find the rat, kill the rat.’

Joe raised an eyebrow at the interjection. ‘Yeah, thanks, Albie. When I find the rat I’ll do a good deal more to the cunt than kill it.’ Joe nodding his apologies to the women. Both of whom stared back impassively. ‘But in the meantime I’d like some assurances.’

‘Assurances?’

Joe looked over at his sparring partner with the barest hint of irritation. Lewis reckoning he was resisting the urge to ask Albie if he was a fucking parrot or what?