‘Druggie bastard shot one of my boys,’ said Landon.

‘I’m sorry to hear that. You sorting it?’

‘It’s done. Last seen floating down the river, if you get my meaning. His girlfriend’s still squatting in the house, shouting the odds, but I thought it could be a good place for a stash once we’ve booted the cow out the door. However, Mr Stone, I wanted your approval before I made the final decision on it.’

Charlie nodded. He appreciated the respect Landon was paying him. Landon was all right.

‘Well, let’s get over there and take a look,’ said Charlie.

Landon drove them over to Barking and pulled up outside a beaten-down row of Victorian terrace houses. The front gardens were thick with grass and weeds. Stray roses poked through the undergrowth, long neglected. Old chairs and mattresses were slung out on the pavement. To Charlie it was home; his manor. You could smell piss on every corner, and hot oil from the chip shops. Suddenly, he missed it. Wanted to be back here day-to-day, not out in the sticks. He was bored and he was actually wondering if he could pep things up by revisiting the Jill thing, maybe go and give her another good stiff talking to. He’d love that. He got hard even thinking about it. But . . . shit, he couldn’t do that to Terry again, could he? And anyway – Jill had young Belle under her feet now, and you couldn’t get a good, satisfying poke at the mother over the kitchen sink with a kid wandering about the place, now could you?

Landon pushed open the unlocked door and shouted out: ‘Hello?’

There was no answer. Inside, the walls were black with mould, the lino under their feet was sticky with muck. They walked along the hallway to a kitchen where the sink was brown with tea stains and . . .

‘Christ!’ said Terry, slapping a hand over his nose.

Meat flies buzzed around a small object in the middle of the kitchen floor. The smell hit Charlie and Landon too, and they covered their faces. The woman was curled up as if asleep, but they could see she wasn’t going to wake up this side of eternity. She was wearing a mint-green T-shirt and black shorts. Her skin was mottled purple and white where the blood had settled after death. Her arms were criss-crossed with needle tracks. Beside her on the floor was a used syringe.

‘Shit,’ said Landon.

‘Fuck,’ said Terry.

‘Well she won’t be giving anybody trouble any more,’ said Charlie.

‘We’ll get her moved out tonight,’ said Landon.