Bill Dixon was of medium height and build. His clothes were plain; he wore no handkerchief, no jewellery. Nothing about him stood out at first glance. Maybe that was how he managed to evade the law for so long. No one would guess by looking at him that he ruled over St Giles with his gang of criminals. I hadn’t seen him for months, and then only at a distance, but I’d have known him anywhere.

Bill bowled in, his lackeys a couple of steps behind. He headed purposefully towards a booth in the far corner and there was a scramble as the two men already sitting there picked up their pint glasses and made way for him. Bill threw himself against the high-backed seat and I saw him open his mouth to call for a drink but there was no need. Augustus was already there with a tall glass. It would be boiled water, I knew. He may have encouraged his followers to drink, but he never touched a drop himself.

Might as well get it over with. I rose and strode across to where he sat. As I arrived, the two heavies who’d accompanied Bill made to close ranks, but he’d seen me coming.

‘No need, gents. I know this one,’ he said.

Lucien had followed me and slid into the booth next to me as I took my seat.

‘Give us some privacy, will you,’ Bill said.

His henchmen nodded and moved a little further away. They turned their backs on us, but I knew they’d be doing all they could to listen.

‘I never forget a face. Zillah, isn’t it? I’ve not seen you at the Rookery lately. Heard you’d moved up town,’ Bill said.

Of course he had. Knowledge: that was the source of his power. That and his deadly belt buckle. I caught a glimpse of polished silver at his waist and swallowed down the fear it gave me.

‘I’ve been around. I’ve got to work, don’t I?’

‘Ah yes, I’d heard about that too. Good to hear of a fellow Bajan doing well.’

I always forgot that he was from Barbados as my mother was.

‘I need your help, Bill,’ I admitted, though it burnt me to say it.

‘Is that right? I thought you’d never accept nothing from the ’Birds.’

‘I never would. Not for myself. It’s for someone else.’

‘This where you come in, is it?’ Bill said, turning to Lucien.

I looked over to Lucien but all he did was shake his head.

‘There’s an African woman. They call her the Leopard Lady.’

‘Freaks are big business, Zillah. You know that, though, don’t you?’

‘This is different. She’s real.’

Bill splayed his hands out before him and picked at the dirt beneath his thumbnail. I could see him thinking it over.

‘What do you want me to do about it?’