Georgio removed the knife from Timmy’s hand, passing it to Chopper as he took Timmy by the arm.

‘Let’s go and get a cup of Rosie Lee and a bit of Holy Ghost, eh?’

Timmy smiled vacantly.

‘Tea and toast. We’ll celebrate that wanker’s demise, shall we?’

Georgio nodded sagely, then led Timmy past the two screws at the door and shook his head at them in a gesture of warning. The two men stepped back, allowing Georgio to pass them by.

The shower room was still silent with shock. One of Lewis’s minders, Michael Clarkson, spat on to the inert form. Then, picking up his towel, he walked from the room, whistling lightly under his breath.

The elder of the prison wardens knelt down beside Lewis and took his pulse.

‘You’d better get the quack, Daniels. He’s still alive.’ Standing up he looked at the men in the shower room. ‘This puts a different complexion on things, don’t it? Did anyone see anything?’

Slowly each man in the room shook his head; some even carried on with their showers. Shrugging the warder sounded the alarm and oversaw Lewis’s removal to the hospital wing.

Ten minutes later it was just a normal morning in any maximum security prison.

Benjamin Dawes was washing himself once more when he shouted out: ‘If Lewis croaks, I bagsy his rug and his curtains. They’ll go lovely with me three-piece suite.’

Everyone cracked up with laughter.

Donna’s introduction to the underworld of Scotland was a shock, the more so because the first taste she had of it was being driven by Alan to a large house on the outskirts of Edinburgh.

The house had a long winding drive, a gabled roof, and enough ivy along its Georgian exterior to cover her own home five times over.

‘Nice drum, ain’t it? Everyone always pictures the slums when they think of villains. Well, that might be where we all started out, and some never leave them, but a few of us, Georgio included, go for the high life.’

Donna didn’t bother answering him.

Three large German Shepherds were barking at the car as they drove through the electric gates.

‘Don’t attempt even to open a window till Jamesie gets here. They’d rip you to pieces.’

Donna looked out in dismay at three identical sets of teeth as the dogs jumped on the car.

‘They fuck up me paintwork every time.’ Alan’s voice was resigned.

‘Listen, Donna, don’t say nothing unless you know what you’re talking about, right? Jamesie is a bit of a lad, a laugh, but at the same time he don’t suffer fools gladly, know what I mean?’

Donna carried on staring at the three large dogs, whose barking was beginning to give her a headache.