‘I appreciate the favour,’ Jeff said to Reaper. ‘Sorry for the short notice. This is my friend and associate, Tuesday Fletcher.’

‘Brave man,’ Reaper grunted as he shook Tuesday’s hand. His grip was like a gorilla’s. ‘Getting in that flying coffin with this fuckin’ numpty at the controls.’ Reaper sourly surveyed the aircraft. ‘So, Dekker, when I agreed to let you park this heap of shit in my field and borrow my van, I never asked you what this was about.’

‘It’s about helping a mate in trouble,’ Jeff said. ‘And it’s about asking no questions. Better you don’t know.’

Reaper’s round, bristly face split in an ugly smile. ‘That’s what I thought you were going to say. This mate of yours, is he straight up?’

‘As straight up as any bloke you ever served with.’

Reaper said, ‘You need an extra hand?’

‘Nah, best you stay here, tend to your horses and keep an eye on the old girl for me. Might get a little hairy where we’re going.’

Reaper smiled wider, with a particular sort of meaningful twinkle in his eye. ‘Thought you were going to say that, too. Come on, hop in the jeep. Van’s over in the barn.’

Neither Jeff nor Tuesday understood what the mystery twinkle was about, until Reaper opened up the big double-door barn and showed them the van. It was a generic, beaten-up commercial Ford Transit with faded lettering on the back and sides that said TREV’S LIGHT HAULAGE, with a phone number that was probably as out of date and obsolete as the vehicle itself. The mess of straw in the back hinted at the van’s bale-collecting duties here on Reaper’s horse farm.

‘Bought it at a bankruptcy auction for a song,’ Reaper said. ‘Don’t look like much, but it won’t let you down. Comes with a few extra features, too. Here, take a peek.’ He slid open the side door and invited them to look inside. The space behind the front seats had been home-converted into a rudimentary wooden bunk, fitted with a thin foam mattress.

But it was the item lying on top of the bunk that Reaper meant for Jeff and Tuesday to see.

‘Didn’t pick that up at a bankruptcy auction, I’m guessing,’ Jeff said.

Reaper looked smugly satisfied. ‘You’re not the only one who doesn’t want no bleedin’ questions, so don’t ask where I got it. By the sound of things, thought it might come in handy for you boys.’