Mike continued to stare, and at that moment, he definitely believed the man was kosher, but out of the corner of his eye he also clocked the sly, nervous expression on Dez’s face. It wasn’t a look of pain from his broken kneecaps, it was the coarse edge of fear mixed with guilt.

Woodrow watched in surprise as Mike’s huge bulk moved faster than Tyson Fury.

In one fluid motion, Mike ripped the tape from Dez’s mouth and clenched the spanner tight, threatening to use it if Dez so much as said the wrong word. ‘You knew my son because you, ya creepy little shit, wanted to fuck him. You held a blade to his jugular, so you knew I had a son. Now, you’re gonna tell me who’s responsible and why my boy took a fucking pasting with a sack over his head!’ Your days are numbered anyway, he thought.

‘It wasn’t nothing to do with me!’ he yelled.

‘Liar!’ screamed Mike, as the spanner came smashing down onto Dez’s right wrist.

Dez reeled in pain before he let out a blood-curdling scream, and his head lolled forward. The intense pain almost made him pass out.

Randy was now sweating buckets and praying he wasn’t next. He was aware of who the big man was; Dez had told him all about Mike Regan. Yet, for the moment, he felt safe. Regan was intent on getting answers from Dez and had no firm reason to beat the life out of himself; it was clear Regan hated his brother anyway.

‘Who battered my boy?’ he bellowed, as he swung the spanner intimidatingly. But instead of hitting Dez, yet again, he hit Randy on his right kneecap, and then, in a sick turn of events, he removed the tape from Randy’s mouth, allowing him to issue a blood-curdling scream too, but it was even louder than his brother’s. ‘You two are close. Now, who hurt my son?’

Staffie and Willie were stunned: they hadn’t expected that. Willie was high on cocaine and laughed in his usual high-pitched girl’s giggle, but Staffie stared, wondering if what he was witnessing was too personal and Mike was losing the plot. He knew though that it would be pointless to intervene when Mike was in a mood like this one. For the first time in his life, Staffie questioned his own motivation for doing work of this nature. It was okay when they’d been younger, but he wondered if he even had the stomach for this kind of torture anymore.

As Mike raised the tool again, Randy yelled, ‘Wait, please! Let me talk!’ He cried in pain and tried to get his words together, but it was the look on Dez’s face that said it all. Mike suddenly stopped and lowered the spanner. He stepped back and breathed in, allowing his chest to inflate and his chin to rise.