The newcomer looked even more amused. ‘It’s quite funny, if a bit predictable, the way you’ve shown your “angry man” colours so quickly, when usually you like to play it calm and sophisticated. I think that’s a major thing for you, isn’t it? Appearances? I mean, currently it’s the other way around. You like to make it seem as if this private eye firm is a backstreet affair. But really, that other business of yours, the blackmailing gig … that pays a lot more, eh?’

O’Grady couldn’t initially respond. All he could think, incredible though it seemed, was that either Stone or Roper had blabbed to the wrong person – not that there was ever a right person in this line of work. For the moment, though, keeping his cool and brazening it out suddenly seemed like the most important thing in the world.

‘Something wrong, Miles?’ the guy asked. ‘No more threats? No more promises to bring an apeman here with a bat?’ He paused, but O’Grady simply glared at him, the breath hissing through his clenched teeth. ‘You must have a few questions, at least?’

Slowly, carefully, O’Grady sat down again. ‘I’ve already asked you twice. Who are you? And what bill?’

The newcomer pursed his lips as though these were entirely reasonable enquiries.

‘Well, first of all … I’m an admirer. I admire your audacity. The guy who made such an inroad into Manchester’s white-collar criminals and yet the same guy who’s now made white-collar crime pay better than any of those poor, blundering saps he sent to jail. I admire the frugal way you run things. Granted, this shithole’s a façade, but it also means you’re barely spending a penny on your overheads. And as you’re not paying significant tax either, it’s nearly all going into you and your two buddies’ pockets. I admire the way you’re sticking it to those GMP bastards who kicked your arse out. I bet you get satisfaction from that every single day. Fucking straight men, eh? Spit and polish types, everything by the book. And yet it’s all to make them look good, isn’t it? Meanwhile, real detectives like you, crafty old-schoolers who were every kind of embarrassment and yet still had more luck getting into the guts of evil bastards like me than this lot would ever know … you’re out on your ear—’

‘Hey!’ O’Grady pointed a finger. ‘Stop pretending you know what motivates me. You’re not an ally of mine, and clearly you’re not my fucking mate.’

‘No, but I do want to be your partner.’

‘What … what’s that?’