‘This is the second question you asked me. “What bill?” you said. In other words, who are you going to be paying? It’s a fair question … it’s gonna be at least half your annual income, after all. It’s only fair that you know where it’s going.’

O’Grady rocked in his chair. He’d laugh if anything about this was even remotely funny. ‘You’ve got to be kidding. You are seriously screwed in the head.’

‘Steady on, Milesey.’ The newcomer’s smile hardened. ‘This is a sliding scale. The tougher you are to deal with, the more expensive it’s going to get.’

O’Grady smiled too, though it was hard and humourless. ‘You seriously think I haven’t dealt with cheap gangsters before? With chancers and wannabes? You think I can’t sniff out some cocky spiv who’s got all the blarney, all the gab, but who’d run a country mile if it ever cut up for real?’

‘No, I know you have. Which is why I’m confident you’re going to be sensible.’

‘Just get out of here, pal. Right now, and we’ll forget this ever happened.’

‘Thought you were going to make a phone-call?’

O’Grady lugged open a drawer and grabbed out a short-barrelled Taurus .357 Magnum revolver. It was fully loaded, and he pointed it at the newcomer’s face.

‘You seriously don’t know what you’re getting into,’ he warned.

‘Okay … enough pissing around.’ The guy straightened in his seat, seemingly unfazed by the proximity of the gun. ‘I’m sure you know who I represent. It’s a no-brainer, isn’t it? You must always have known that at some point, as your star rose, we’d get interested.’

‘You’re getting nothing else,’ O’Grady said tightly.

‘Here’s the deal. At the mo it’s fifty per cent. Payable monthly, not annually. For which purpose we’ll obviously need full access to your books … your real ones, that is. Not the Mickey Mouse ones you keep for the Inland Revenue.’

‘I said, get out of here, you stinking piece of trash!’

‘That pushes it to sixty-forty. In our favour, of course.’

O’Grady shoved his chair back and jumped up. Now he was aiming with both hands, squinting along the barrel. ‘You little fuck!’

‘Seventy-thirty.’

‘Get out!’

‘We like what you do, Miles. I told you I was an admirer. We all are. But it’d be a lot easier for everyone if you were to play nice.’

‘Get the fuck out!’

‘Oh dear.’ For the first time, the newcomer looked disappointed. ‘This can be put back on a more even keel, but I’m worried that you’ve already lost too much ground.’

‘I said get the fuck out!’ It was all but a shriek.