‘That’s OK. I’ve got his SIM. One transaction and it’ll be security-cleared. And there’s no rush.’

Lewis’s voice, hoarse but insistent.

‘Kill me.’

‘I’ll call you back. Got something to finish up here.’

He cut the call off and looked down at Lewis.

‘Well done, Lewis. You came through. Time for me to keep my end of the bargain.’

The helpless enforcer nodding. ‘Do it.’

Mickey folded his arms. Looking down at Lewis. ‘Thing is, Lewis, the things my source told me about you didn’t make for enjoyable reading. The murders. The men you maimed. The women you raped. That was a favourite of yours, wasn’t it? Put a man back in line by fucking his woman in front of him? And your favourite. Murder extortion. Get a victim into a position like this. Pay up or die slowly. And with a pitiless bastard like you staring down at them, of course they paid up. Expecting to be spared. Except you never spared any of them. Did you? Here, let’s have a proper look at you.’

Mickey pulled off the mask. Waiting while Lewis’s blinking eyes adjusted to the light.

‘You never spared a single person you had at your mercy, did you? You laughed at them as they died. And so the question is, Lewis, what makes you any different to them?’

He stood up, putting a hand on the mixer’s tip handle.

‘You… you promised!’

Mickey nodded. ‘I did. And yet…’

‘Please. Kill me now.’ Lewis’s voice imploring him.

‘Fair enough. You’ve earned some consideration. Let’s compromise.’

He picked up the .45. Levelled it at the desperate enforcer’s face. Then lowered his point of aim until the pistol’s muzzle was aimed directly at his stomach.

‘No! You prom—’

He squeezed the trigger. The heavy bullet blowing a hole in the enforcer’s guts. Clanging off the bath’s metal skin to lodge somewhere in his back.

‘I promised you a bullet. And a bullet you have. And now it’s time to finish this before your boss finds us.’

The sweating, gasping prisoner looked up at him. Eyes slitted against the pain that was racking his helpless body.

‘Finish… me! You… fucking… promised!’

‘Yeah, I did, didn’t I? Problem is, buddy, so did you. Time and time again. And then let the cement do its worst to them anyway. Time to reap what you sowed.’

Lewis stared wide-eyed as Mickey, smiling sadly, tipped the drum forward. And then bellowed in pain and fear as a viscous cascade of liquid cement poured into the bath.

42