‘Well, fuck me,’ Raymond said, looking at Eddie in astonishment.

Lifting the guns out one by one, Eddie studied them. Hand, machine, shot: there was every gun going. He stared at the jewellery. Sovereigns, ingots, rings, chains: there were hundreds of different pieces.

Raymond picked up a black velvet bag and opened it. ‘Jesus, Ed, you’ve got a load of diamonds ’ere, mate.’

Eddie smiled. His old man was a wily old bastard and he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘Pick out something for yourself, Ray, and take something nice for Polly.’

Raymond shook his head. ‘They’re yours mate, don’t be silly. I don’t want nothing.’

‘Take it, Ray. Me old man wanted you to have something, I know he did,’ Eddie insisted.

Knowing how forceful Eddie could be, Raymond picked out a pretty ring for Polly and a chunky one for himself. He put them in his pocket and turned to Eddie. ‘What you gonna do with the guns? You can’t leave ’em here.’

Eddie shrugged. ‘I’ll take the diamonds and jewellery home and put them in the safe. The guns can be hidden down the salvage yard for now. Let’s shoot straight there. We can come back here tomorrow and tidy stuff up. I’ve gotta come back anyway; I wanna ask around, see if anyone’s got any more information about Dad’s murder.’

‘What shall we do about the digger? Have you gotta take it back today?’

Looking at his watch, Eddie cursed. He had told Ronny he would meet him and Paulie at seven and it was already six o’clock. ‘The digger’s fine, it can stay here till tomorrow. I think I’m gonna ring Paulie and Ronny and meet ’em tomorrow instead. If we clean up here in the morning, it’ll give us plenty of time to talk to the neighbours, then we’ll go to the Flag after that.’

Raymond agreed.

‘I’ll tell you what. I dunno about you, but I could kill a couple of beers. Why don’t we drop the guns off, then stop at a boozer where no one knows us?’ Eddie suggested.

Raymond laughed. ‘We could walk into a boozer in Timbuktu and people would know us, Ed.’

Eddie chuckled. ‘Come on you tosser, help me get this chest in the motor.’

Frankie laughed as Jed pressed the ‘play’ button. He was such a sod. In the hotel reception, he had seen a girl carrying a tape recorder. ‘Oi, pretty lady, let me buy that off you,’ he’d said.

The girl had looked at Jed in amazement. ‘It’s only a cheap one,’ she’d replied.

‘How much do ya want for it?’ Jed had asked.

‘I don’t really want to sell it,’ the girl had said.

Jed had put his hand in his pocket and waved some money in her face. ‘’Ere you go. Take fifty quid for it.’