Lazenby physically relaxed now that he was away from the water; in fact, he virtually flopped. When McCracken threw him against the Galaxy, he lay over its bonnet like a heap of wet rags.

‘And when you’d shot me,’ McCracken said, ‘what then? Back into your office as if nothing had happened … with a body still in the car park, and your fingerprints all over the murder weapon, and gunfire residue on your hands and clothes?’

‘Look … what do I care?’ Lazenby craned his head around, his formerly frightened face written with peevish angst. ‘Everything’s gone up in smoke. Literally. But why am I telling you, eh? You’re the bastard behind it. I mean … I was going to play along.’ He levered himself upright and turned around, but was so wearied by the confrontation that he still had to lean against the car. ‘Your demands were exorbitant, outrageous. But I kind of realised I had no choice. And then you came and did me over anyway. I mean … where do you gain from that? Okay … dumb fuck that I am, I led you right to my stash and let you pocket a hundred and sixty grand’s worth of liquid cash. But all the rest of that gear was worth half a million, at least. And I was going to cut you in. You could have kept on getting paid for months, if not years …’

McCracken heard him out in silence, unsurprised but nonetheless disturbed by the unfolding story. ‘Someone’s robbed you … is that what you’re trying to say?’

‘Don’t play the innocent …’

‘I wouldn’t know how to. But tell me what happened anyway.’

‘Yeah, someone robbed me.’ Lazenby hefted himself away from the vehicle, and prodded gingerly at his cheek, which, though it had only been slapped, already looked inflamed. ‘Two of your fucking goons followed me to my lock-up.’

‘And they lifted a hundred and sixty grand?’

‘Everything I had spare.’

‘And what happened to the gear?’

Denuded of his glasses, Lazenby struggled to focus on his tormentor. ‘You seriously saying you don’t know?’

‘Indulge me.’

‘They torched it, didn’t they!’

McCracken felt a creeping sense of disbelief. ‘They set fire to half a mill’s worth of dope?’

‘Yeah, for fuck’s sake! And once it had started burning, I had to let it go, didn’t I? Else I’d have had some explaining to do when the Fire Brigade arrived. I’m only surprised half the neighbourhood didn’t get stoned.’

Noting the glint of Lazenby’s glasses lying near his feet, McCracken scooped them up and handed them over. ‘Whereabouts was this lock-up?’

Lazenby fixed the specs to his sweat-slick nose. ‘Up on the Bellhop. Are you seriously claiming you didn’t order the attack?’

‘How many blaggers?’

‘I only saw two.’

‘Ski masks?’

‘Yeah.’

‘What colour were the masks?’

‘Red … why?’

McCracken chewed his lip. ‘Automatic weapons?’

‘You obviously know about this.’