‘You’re on that bloody social media site again, aren’t you? What’s it called? Tip-off?’ John found new media irritating, probably because it had sounded the death knell for newspapers.

‘One of these days it’s going to help us find a big story before the police sirens get there,’ said Elyas.

‘I’ll stick to police media lines and tip-offs from real people, thanks,’ John replied.

Elyas looked up. ‘Did you know that South Asians are more likely to take up new technology than their white counterparts? And did you know that the brown pound is stronger than the equivalent white pound?’

‘And did YOU know you’re buying me dinner with that strong brown pound?’ said John. ‘Speaking of money. Did you get anywhere with the “havala” story?’

‘The money-laundering one?’ Elyas had been looking into the money transfer method after a tip-off from the police. ‘Yeah, a little bit. I know that travel agents are involved, and that there’s no paper trail. It’s pretty complicated and I’m not sure anyone really understands it and that’s what makes it such a great way for criminals to hide and move money. Why do you ask?’

‘Just something I’ve been looking into recently,’ answered John. ‘There are lots of hand car-wash places opening up across the city. I’m wondering if they’re dodgy.’

‘Probably,’ said Elyas.

The waiter brought their order and placed it on the table. They began eating even before he’d left, Elyas tearing large chunks off the chapatti and dipping it in the karahi. ‘Who needs plates?’ he said.

It had been a long day. The city had been boiling over with news and they hadn’t had time to eat. When John finally looked up from his plate he saw they were being watched. ‘Why do they let that old homeless man hang around? He’s always stalking the staff, judging the customers.’

‘Maybe because he owns the place?’ said Elyas, smiling.

John looked at the elderly man he’d thought was homeless. His suit was oversized and his grey hair dishevelled, but Elyas was right: he was in charge. He called one of the waiters over and pointed to a table that needed cleaning. The waiter bowed repeatedly, fear written across his face, before rushing to clear away the dishes beside him. ‘I’d like to have people be that scared of me when I’m old. And have them do my bidding,’ John said.

‘What, on eBay, you mean?’

‘Funny,’ said John. ‘Any leads on anything on that thing then?’

‘Plenty. I’m using this site called Yik Yak. People use it to post stuff about specific places,’ Elyas said. ‘Remember that shooting last year, the one outside the club? Well, there’s a lot of differing accounts about who was responsible.’

John raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it? Trial’s already begun.’