It was nice of the boss to have him, really. But have him he did. It was taken for granted that Alec would be no good down on the shop floor, but he was a whiz at office work and seemed to fit in nicely in the invoicing department, so it all worked out.

He’d stayed later than the shop floor workers, later than the rest of the office staff, because there was a backlog on the filing and he was trying to catch up and get a bit of overtime in. When he finally locked up the cabinets and turned out the lights and bid the night watchman a good evening, he walked out of the yard feeling that he’d completed the job to his satisfaction, and he was looking forward to getting home and spending some time with his infant son and his wife.

On his way out of the gate, he turned left into darkness, and that was when someone grabbed him and shoved him hard back against the foundry wall, knocking all the breath out of him.

‘What the fu—’ he yelped in terror.

‘Where is she then?’ asked a low male voice.

‘What? Who?’ Alec couldn’t see the man’s face. It was like a demon had suddenly erupted in front of him, straight out of the blackness of hell. He was transfixed with fear.

‘You know who,’ said the man, and slammed Alec’s head back against the foundry wall. ‘Speak up, arsehole. Tell me where that bitch Dora is. She’s not in town any more, she’s not hanging around with Frank Pargeter at the moment. So where is she? Where’s she got to?’

Lil had said that Dora was in trouble, and Alec knew what that meant. The most glamorous of the three sisters, Dora had been trouble right from the word go. Alec knew this. He also knew that Lil would skin him alive if he gave out Dora’s whereabouts. The people Dora mixed with, they were dross. Scum. Dickie Cole and then Frank, who by all accounts had been showing Dora a good time around town.

‘I dunno,’ said Alec.

‘Yes you do.’ His head was slammed back again. It fucking hurt, stung like fury, and he felt a warm trickle of blood running down to stain the back of his shirt collar.

‘Don’t,’ gasped Alec.

‘Tell me where she is,’ said the man.

A car swished by, headlights blazing, and he saw dark hair, dark eyes. A sculpted, intense face. It was Donny Maguire. The copper – not a villain. Poor William Maguire’s big brother. And Alec had heard all about Susan Maguire too, the poor cow – throwing herself off the church tower like that. Christ, Dora was making more enemies than he could keep count of. It was the best thing that she had buggered off, left her family in peace. Only this wasn’t peace, was it? Not when someone was banging your head against a brick wall until you felt your brain was going to leak right out of your ears.