‘See, Joe’s not a man who takes this sort of thing lying down. And especially not when he loses this sort of face. Killing Lewis was pretty much the final straw. You pair of pricks are going down the sewers in pieces. Very small pieces. First he gets to watch you die. Just about as slowly as you can imagine. His new man Rocco being a total fucking psychopath. You two did him a right favour baking Lewis alive. Because it made Joe realise that he’s going to need a right fucking psychopath if he’s going to see off his rivals. Lewis was a nasty bastard, all right. But he was an attack dog. He could be restrained, when the need arose. Rocco doesn’t have that ability to restrain himself. And so this is where you get to reap the whirlwind you’ve sowed. You, your copper mate and his women.’

That got Martin’s attention. Not that they’d be able to find anyone he cared for. Given that his sexual predilections concentrated mostly on one-off use of hookers. But, knowing Mickey, he also knew Roz.

‘I thought he said that—’

‘If your mate gives himself up then the women get left alone? You mug.’ Eddie shook his head sadly. The battle-weary general of a victorious army. Explaining the facts of life to the defeated population. ‘Joe ain’t going to miss up on those opportunities. Not if I know him, which trust me, I do. All too well. You two get to experience the reality of chainsaw art. On video, of course. He’ll probably put it on YouTube. Bale’s wife gets herself a starring role in a Joe production. Titled “My enemy’s woman pays the price for his mistakes.” And the reporter gets delivered to the Clarion. In pieces just large enough for her to be identified. Eventually. Sending a message for them to think twice next time. Before they try to sharpen their claws on him again.’

Martin shook his head. His expression part resignation at the hopelessness of his position. Part terror at what was to come. Eddie’s evident resignation to having to watch him die badly more terrifying than any of Joe’s threats.

‘Yeah, well fuck him.’

‘When the time comes, my advice would be to be penitent. Good word, that. You had no idea what your mate was doing. He took the guns from your store without telling you. If you’d known, you’d have coughed him up to Joe straight away. Might go easier on you, if you make a show of respect.’

‘How much easier?’

A hint of entreaty in Martin’s voice. An ocean of entreaty in his eyes. The gateway to the soul, Eddie remembered reading years ago. And Martin’s soul was jumping out of his eyes like an old-style cartoon character with their foot flattened by a mallet.