Beyond the frenzied mob, a familiar figure had emerged through the clubhouse door, and now stood there stunned. It was Harry Jepson, ruffled as ever, wearing a scruffy raincoat over an unbuttoned corduroy shirt, a white vest showing underneath.

‘Harry!’ Lucy called. ‘Harry … do something! Stop them!’

Harry finally registered her. He glanced back at the biker pack and the hunched-up figure at their feet, before noticing something else. Quickly, he reached down and scooped it up. The next thing Lucy knew, he was pointing Tucker’s .38 at the ceiling.

Two swift shots followed.

They weren’t loud – but they were loud enough to attract the attention of the crowd.

‘Back off, all of you!’ Harry bellowed, swivelling round, pointing the gun at anyone who was close to him.

Almost as one, the biker pack retreated, red-faced, gasping for breath. The bloodstained shape on the ground was still moving, but only slightly.

‘Right away!’ Harry shouted. ‘And drop those punk-arse weapons, right now!’

There was a clattering and thunking, as bats and pipes fell to the floor.

‘Okay … who the hell is this?’ Armstrong demanded of Lucy.

‘It’s okay, Kyle,’ she replied. ‘Harry, be careful! We don’t want you shooting someone too.’

‘What the fuck is going on here?’ he said.

‘We’ve got to arrest DS Tucker.’

He gazed at her, nonplussed. Then down at the groaning body. He finally recognised the wrenched-around tie, the blood-dabbled shirt and torn jacket. ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph … ’

‘Harry, he shot my mum!’ Lucy said. ‘He was going to shoot me!’

‘Jesus God almighty!’

‘Harry … just keep your shit together! We have to get Mum to hospital!’

Harry nodded vaguely. ‘I’ve …’ But he still looked dumbfounded.

‘Harry, for Christ’s sake!’

‘I’ve … got the car outside. But Lucy, what the hell …?’

‘I’ll tell you everything on the way.’

‘Okay …’ He nodded more forcefully. ‘Okay.’

‘And we’ve got to take Danny Tucker into custody.’

‘Assuming he’s fit to walk.’

‘You want to leave him here?’ she asked.

He glanced at the watching bikers, levelling the pistol on them. ‘Get back, I said! Drug-addled nutjobs!’

‘Listen, Harry … they may have saved all our lives.’

There was another groan from Danny Tucker, who now was stirring properly.

‘Harry, he’s coming round. Get the cuffs on him, please. Kyle, I need some help with my mother. Have you got a first aid kit?’

Rather to Lucy’s surprise, while Kyle helped her get Cora to her feet, the person who brought over a green ziplock bag full of medical accoutrements was none other than Hells Kells, though of course she’d also shown a glimpse of humanity during the attack on Tucker.

Lucy wondered if she’d misjudged the woman.

‘Don’t look too surprised,’ Hells Kells said, noting Lucy’s expression, but maintaining a typically truculent tone. ‘I’m happy to help. Parents can’t always be blamed for their kids, can they?’