‘Given that thousands of people owe their lives to the handouts from the Jewish Soup Kitchen in Brune Street, you can understand why.’

‘Quite,’ he said, and I wasn’t sure what he was agreeing with. ‘There have been numerous anti-gentrification campaigns targeting businesses in Shoreditch and Brick Lane. The bad feeling is worse where people are marking up products which are cheap to buy or make. People believe they’re ripping off consumers.’ He paused. ‘The owners of the vintage clothing shops, for example, often buy up charity stock for a few quid and sell the items for hundreds of pounds. One of them was targeted a while back.’

‘We know about the attack on Pick Your Vintage. But no-one makes people shop in Brick Lane.’ Was there disapproval in his comments? ‘Are you suggesting your brother’s soup business was in the same category?’

‘You asked me what I thought and I’m telling you.’

‘If people want vintage clothing, posh coffee and soup, and can afford them, what’s the problem? Can everyone afford to come into your club and pay for a lap dance?’

‘No, they can’t. And that’s my point. People claim that businesses like mine and my brother’s change the fabric of an area. They attract people who can afford them and push out those who can’t. As wealthier people move in, the mix of businesses changes.’

‘You mean gentrification?’

‘Exactly. When I set up this club, there were already loads of bars in the area. The Brick Lane Soup Company is another business which isn’t in keeping with what many people want for the area.’ He flicked his hand dismissively. ‘Personally, I think people need to move with the times and stop whingeing. There are several shops in Brick Lane which are way past their sell-by date.’

I pricked up my ears. ‘Such as?’

‘The off-licence a few doors down from my brother’s place. The newsagent’s opposite. Pre-historic that place is, and its owner.’ His words dripped with contempt and it was hard to contain my irritation.

‘So, they’re supposed to give up their livelihoods because you can think of a preferable business for their location?’

‘It’s basic economics.’ He tossed his biro onto his mouse-mat. ‘Anyhow, it’s their look-out, but they need to be careful. That’s all I’m saying. Sooner or later, things get taken out of people’s hands.’

I sensed that Artem was no stranger to violence. He reminded me of a piranha, lurking in the safety of the shallows while he waited for his next victim. ‘Like someone torching their business, you mean?’

Dan had joined me in front of Artem’s desk.

‘It’s perfectly possible, isn’t it?’

It was a confident response, but I noticed Artem easing his chair back a few inches.

‘Did Simas receive any aggravation about the shop?’ I asked.