‘I don’t want your stinking drugs or your fucking money. I wanna know who gave you the drugs to flog in the first place. I want names, times, and places, and if you think you can mug me off, I’ll rip your head off your scrawny shoulders. Got me?’

All the attendant could do was nod; he could see there was no way he was getting out of this place in one piece.

‘So, first, tell me ya name, and then I wanna know who your lookout is for starters.’

The long pause was a mistake. Staffie gave him a punch to the side of the ribs. The blow winded the man badly, and he coughed and spluttered, trying desperately to get his breath.

‘Cor, a bit dramatic for a little dig, wasn’t it? How about I give you a real fucking thump, this time to your head? Maybe, then, you’ll think quicker.’

‘Okay, okay, please. I’m Saeed. The other man’s name is Leon Khouri. He’s inside, wearing a white top, dark hair, black trousers. Maybe Italian or an Arab.’

Staffie hurried away to the main exit door where Willie was watching. ‘He’s inside. Black trousers, white shirt. Foreign looking, dark hair.’

Willie shook his head. ‘How many lads fit that description?’

Staffie shrugged his shoulders. ‘Let’s go and get Lou and fucking find out.’

Shortly, all three men were inside the pub, searching for the Leon Khouri fella. Willie soon spotted someone who appeared to be on edge, hovering by the toilets.

A few strides later, Willie was in front of the man. ‘Leon?’

The guy instantly looked in Willie’s direction, giving himself away. His eyes darted around the pub, looking for an escape route. However, two other men approached him, so he’d no way out.

He assumed they were the police and sighed, thinking he was nicked; yet, once the tall ugly man roughly snatched his collar, he panicked. These weren’t the police; in fact, they were something far worse. Before he’d even had a chance to struggle, he was marched out through the side exit and dragged into the walkway where Saeed Antar, his best salesman, was standing and looking as though he would either pass out with terror or shit himself on the spot.

‘You cunt!’ he spat at Saeed. ‘Fucking grass.’

Saeed couldn’t look at his boss: he was between a rock and a hard place.

Then Leon stared at the big man. For a second, he thought he knew the guy, but while he couldn’t picture where he’d seen him, the man’s stature and his eyes were so familiar.

‘Who does this prick Leon work for?’ demanded Mike, not acknowledging him, as he placed his hands around Saeed’s throat.