One look at him was enough to tell Ben that the guy was blasted out of his skull on some kind of illicit substance, whose scent wafting from the open doorway only served to confirm that impression. His bleary eyes took a few instants to focus on the two unexpected visitors on the doorstep and realise that neither of them was Jonesy, before they suddenly widened in alarm and he came to life and shot panic-stricken back into the house, shouting ‘Fuck! Fuck! It’s the polis!’

Ben called after him, ‘Hey, it’s okay. We’re not the police.’ Technically speaking, only half true. But either way, the house’s occupants weren’t interested in hanging around to find out. Several more voices were raised in panic from inside. A woman let out a raucous shriek and someone else started screaming, ‘Why the fuck d’ye open the door?’ To which the slurred voice of the shaven-headed guy yelled back, ‘I thought it wiz fuckin’ Jonesy, didna?’

‘Looks like we interrupted something,’ Grace said drily. A second later, they heard a back door crash open and the sound of multiple running footsteps escaping from the rear of the house.

Ben stepped into the front hall. Dustballs the size of dead rats covered the floor and the walls were streaked with mildew. Three nails had been hammered into the plaster near the doorway, with car keys dangling from them. He selected the one with the mouldy leather Mazda fob, and plucked it from its hook.

‘That was easy,’ he said. ‘If the thing starts, we’re out of here without further ado.’

‘Thought you were going to buy it,’ Grace said.

‘I don’t get the impression the residents of this hippy commune, drug den, cannabis social club, or whatever it is, would spend the money wisely or responsibly,’ he replied.

‘Probably right about that.’

‘I wouldn’t feel comfortable about supporting their unhealthy lifestyle.’

‘It’s the moral choice,’ she agreed.

‘So we’ll just nick their car.’

‘Gets my vote.’

They walked back outside. Four men and a woman were hurriedly scrambling away across the half-frozen slushy field adjoining the house. Staggering, in the case of two of them. Ben shook his head and tried the Mazda’s door. It wasn’t locked. He tossed his bag in the back, got behind the wheel, stuck the key in the ignition, said a quick and silent prayer, and gave it a twist. To his relief and actual surprise, the engine coughed into life instantly.

Grace said, ‘Oh-oh. Maybe this won’t be so easy after all.’