Alfie thought of Alan, he could almost taste the disgust in his mouth. ‘He’s small. He barely touches five foot three, and he’s probably in his early thirties. When I saw him last time, he was wearing a blue shell Nike tracksuit and baseball cap with a red letter A on it. His face is probably a bit messed up at the moment, oh and he’s a total smackhead.’

The boy nodded. ‘Yeah, I know him. A proper nonce.’

Alfie frowned. ‘Why do you call him that?’

The boy, who had a thick cockney accent, pulled a face. ‘Cos he is. He’s proper snaky. He’s always watching the younger kids down here. Always trying to make friends with them. A couple of months ago he took a kid into his flat. Nothing happened cos the kid’s dad went looking for him and found him before it did. Geezer gave Alan a right battering. I think he even called the police, told them he’d beaten Alan up and the reason why, but the Old Bill – instead of nicking Alan, they ended up nicking the kid’s dad.’

Alfie shook his head, imagining just how the scene would’ve played out. ‘And is it true that Alan’s got a son?’

The boy raised his eyebrows. ‘Yeah. His name’s Taylor, though I ain’t seen him for a bit. But usually he’s out here on his own, even when the weather’s pissing it down or it’s snowing, Taylor will be out here without a coat. Even my mum ain’t that bad, and she’s shit.’

Having got the details of where Alan lived, Alfie made his way to the large block of flats on the west side of the estate, noticing that most of the CCTV cameras were either hanging off the wall or had been smashed.

Getting into the lift – which had a used syringe in the corner lying in a pool of urine – Alfie tried to hold his breath, not wanting to inhale the stink of alcohol and faeces that sat heavily in the air.

At the top floor, the metal door opened with a shudder and Alfie marched along the corridor, making his way to the end flat. Without bothering to knock, Alfie began to boot the front door down, causing tiny splinters of wood to scatter everywhere. Then with one final kick, the door swung open, and Alfie casually walked in.

The place lay in darkness, the curtains closed and, as Alfie’s eyes adjusted, he could see the whole place was a mess. Going towards the bedroom, Alfie’s attention was suddenly drawn towards the far side of the room; something – or rather somebody – was there and, without any doubt of who it was that crouched and hid in the corner, Alfie leapt at the figure, pounding his fist into any part of the body he could find. He spat out his words.