Roper and Stone were likely dead anyway. Even if they hadn’t said they were ditching him, any efforts O’Grady might make to protect them would be useless. He couldn’t offer any kind of deal to the Crew for a few days at least, maybe for a few weeks. In the meantime, they’d be looking for him, and as they wouldn’t be able to find him, they’d settle for going to his ex-partners. God alone knew what would happen then. McCracken’s personal team would doubtless want full-on revenge, but if they took that out on Roper and Stone, rather than on O’Grady himself … well, he wasn’t complaining.

There was one other loose end, of course – and this only struck him as he hurried out to his Golf.

Megan.

The realisation almost stopped O’Grady in his tracks.

Bizarrely, all through this intense little melodrama, he hadn’t once considered his wretched wife. But he had no choice but to think about her now.

Possibly, there was nothing to worry about. He could simply call her from whichever hotel he found and tell her he was away on business for a few days. She’d think it odd, sure; that he hadn’t taken a change of clothes or any toiletries, and that he hadn’t mentioned anything about this beforehand. But she had at least some idea that he got embroiled in nefarious activities from time to time; and if she followed form, she wouldn’t ask any real questions so long as he could guarantee there’d be a pay-off at the end.

The other alternative was to swing by Broadgate Green now, on his way out of Manchester, and try to persuade her to come with him – but that just wouldn’t happen in the time he had available. She’d have too many queries, too many objections.

He switched the engine on, the car rumbling to life.

If he left Megan at home, of course, the Crew would do something. They wouldn’t just leave her alone because she was a woman. But hopefully they wouldn’t go for the jugular straight away, and it would only be a quick Q&A before they realised that she didn’t know anything. If nothing else, it meant that he’d have to get back to them quickly, to explain his situation and to make his offer.

Despite the narrow confines of the Acre, he pulled a three-point turn and drove towards the entrance. Only to find himself hitting the brake much harder than he needed to, given that he was only doing about ten miles an hour.