She sat and pondered the new intel. In itself it wasn’t world-shaking. She might have come here to strong-arm Jerry McGlaglen, but he’d still given her the bare minimum: nothing more than another victim’s nickname. Okay, that was possibly all he knew and it wasn’t insufficient for her to run with, but it was a clear indication of how resilient McGlaglen and his kind could be. He wouldn’t be the first CI to have his cover blown, and though some of them inevitably turned up in unmarked graves, the majority seemed to survive. They were as rank and shifty as fog, and just as difficult to pin down. On which subject, perhaps it was time to make a certain phone call.

‘Yeah?’ came Kyle Armstrong’s voice.

‘It’s me,’ Lucy said.

‘Who’s me?’

‘You know perfectly well, Kyle, so stop farting around.’

‘Give us a sec.’ Briefly, a murmur of other voices faded as he no doubt walked away from the rest of the gang. ‘Okay,’ he said quietly, ‘what do you want?’

‘I’ll tell you what … that favour you owe me.’

‘Which favour’s that?’

‘Don’t try and pretend you’re clever, Kyle. Some of the people I’m dealing with at present would clear out your bunch of hairy-arsed pillocks with a sneeze. In fact, most of your illegal earnings probably go to them in tax. Now can we get to it, please?’

‘Let me guess … you want me to return that imaginary, non-existent, totally fucking unimpressive favour that you so-called did for us?’

‘Correct.’

‘You’re ever hopeful, aren’t you?’

‘I need anything you’ve got on a loan shark called the Shank.’

‘The Shank? Never heard of him.’

‘In that case ask around.’

‘We don’t have too many dealings with loan sharks.’

Lucy found it difficult to believe such a claim. Half the Low Riders were on the dole, half in menial work – and yet the one credential they needed simply to join the chapter was a voracious appetite for drugs, booze and motorbikes, and those were expensive hobbies.

Armstrong spoke again, cutting across her thoughts. ‘Any of our lot needs cash, we take care of it in-house.’

Lucy supposed that she could believe that. As a group, they earned plenty from the proceeds of crime. If any member needed a bit extra, they probably could provide – for a price.

‘Just let me know if anyone’s ever heard of this Shank guy, Kyle,’ she said. ‘It may prick some interest and thereby refresh some memories if you put it around that whoever this guy is, he could go out of business as a result of this. That means all the debts he’s owed – none of which are legally binding of course – will get written off.’