‘Hello, earth to fucking Kevin! He is dead as a fucking dodo! For fuck’s sake, Monty Python’s parrot has more life in it than him! He’s a human fucking paper chase. Get onboard, for fuck’s sake!’

Sometimes Kevin’s attitude could be severely aggravating, and this was one of those times. Their main supplier was now scattered to all corners of the country, loaded into bin bags and dumped like a fucking treasure hunt for the Old Bill, and here was Kevin unconcerned and, to add insult to injury, not even remotely disgruntled about it.

‘He had our protection, Kev, we fucking owe him, and everyone else who thinks we are watching their fucking backs.’

Bertie was realising how this would look to outsiders; everyone, including that cunt Jonny P, knew that Makabele worked ostensibly for them – it was his ticket to the big time. That meant they had to be seen to be doing something about it – otherwise they could kiss goodbye to their stranglehold on South London, that much was a fucking definite.

Kevin shrugged nonchalantly once more. ‘And?’

It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t anything. It was annoying that’s what it was. ‘And! Fucking “and”? Is that all you’ve got to fucking say? We are fucking being mugged off like a pair of prize cunts, and all you can say is fucking and!’

But Kevin Bryant wasn’t listening to his friend any more; he was already planning his next step, and he knew better than anyone that he had to box very clever. If Jonny P had made it this far then he was armed and extremely dangerous. Obviously he was being protected, and he would have made sure that this little exercise was going to work out in his favour. Anger was a fruitless exercise – not that Bertie would see it that way, of course. What was needed now was a long, hard, sensible think, and he wasn’t going to be able to do that with Bertie wittering on like a fucking old fishwife.

‘Bertie.’

‘What!’

‘Shut the fuck up.’

Bertie did as requested, but he was seething inside. If Jonny Parker was allowed a walk on this kind of calumny then the London they knew and loved would be his for the taking. This was a direct affront to them and everything they had achieved, and if Kevin didn’t strike quickly it would be their turn for the machetes next. Fucking machetes! What was wrong with a common or garden sawn-off? Were these people fucking animals or what? Bertie shook his head in utter disbelief at the skulduggery of some people.