He took a glass of lager from his youngest son and, throwing it in Billy’s face, he waited patiently for the man to come round. It took a few minutes before Billy Allen opened his eye. He looked horrendous, but he glanced at each of them. He tried to laugh, but the laugh became a hacking cough, and he was suddenly spewing blood everywhere.

The boys moved away instinctively, but Danny caught a spray of it across his face. His brothers laughed then at his obvious horror; jumping up quickly he picked up an old rag from the top of one of the filing cabinets and, wiping his face, he said in disgust, ‘That’s all I needed! Fucking wanker! He did that on purpose!’

Peter Bailey looked at his brother and said quietly, ‘He’s dying, Daniel. He won’t last much longer.’

Daniel nodded in agreement. ‘Sling him in the boot of the black Sierra out the back; it’s next in line for crushing. He will be in a two-by-two metal coffin first thing tomorrow morning.’

‘His brother must realise he’s gone on the missing list by now. Strange no one’s fucking located him yet, don’t you think, Dad?’

Daniel looked at his eldest son. ‘Delroy’s got the whole firm on the case. We’ll find him, don’t you worry.’

Peter blew his cigar smoke out noisily. They could hear the rattle as Billy Allen fought to take in his last few breaths.

‘He thinks he has beaten us – thinks that he’s died a fucking hero’s death! How thick can he be? The fact he wouldn’t talk tells us that he knows more than is healthy. Why put yourself through that?’ Jamsie was genuinely astonished at the man’s stupidity.

Daniel sighed. ‘He died knowing he never grassed no one up and, in many ways, son, he did die a hero’s death – not to us maybe, but to him, and to whoever he was protecting. One thing we know now, though: if the Allen brothers weren’t the main instigators of the trouble, they definitely know who is. They were in on it.’

Peter Bailey saw the logic in his brother’s words. ‘Well, let’s just hope we find his brother sooner rather than later, before he has a chance to tell whoever he’s rolling with that the game is almost up. Though the fact we are hunting the Allens down will be enough to alert whoever they are in league with.’

Everyone was in agreement, talking at once. Peter glanced around the Portakabin, and saw with quiet humour that nothing in there had changed since they purchased the place all those years ago – except for the blood that now coated everything.