‘Yes. That man.’ Sasha turned to me with a big grin. ‘Fantastic creeminals, Chechens. They make fabulous amounts of money. For example the Lazanskaya gang, based on Lazania restaurant, here in Moscow – they got enormous riches from stolen cars. They operate very much in Brussels, stealing big cars from diplomats. Then, you know avizo system?’

I shook my head.

‘Avizo is promise note. A bank signs it, to say they will pay so much money. The criminal makes forged promise note in one city, gets it signed, takes it to another city and cashes it. Simple! By such means Chechen avizovshchiki made meellions. No – not meellions. Beellions! In early nineties, such kind of Chechen gang got sixty billion roubles.’

The idea of Mafiosi making fortunes obviously excited Sasha as much as did the idea of knocking off big-time players, and he talked enthusiastically for most of our short journey. But then, as we drew near his flat, he fell silent. After a couple of minutes he said, ‘Zheordie – you must know. My mother – she is very simple woman. Not very educated. Peasant woman.’

‘That’s OK,’ I said. ‘I expect mine was too.’

‘You don’t remember her?’

‘I thought I told you. I never knew my parents. I was brought up by my uncle and aunt.’

That seemed to ease his mind, and his cheerfulness returned.

‘Here is my house,’ he announced as he pulled up outside a tower block. ‘Please, this way.’

We walked down an asphalt path between patches of grass, with a few young trees scattered about. Other tall blocks rose all round, at a reasonable distance. In the dark, with only a few lamps glowing here and there, it was difficult to judge the state of the area, but it looked run-down, with litter blown up against the walls of the buildings.

We entered a cavernous lobby with bare concrete walls, and took the lift to the eighth floor. As we went up slowly, juddering and jerking, I sent Rick a glance that said, ‘Might try the stairs on the way down.’

Sasha stepped out first, sifting through a bunch of keys, and ushered us towards a door – one of four on a small, dingy landing. Turning the lock, he led us in. ‘Please,’ he said, ‘welcome to my house.’