She stroked her chin and pretended to consider his offer. ‘Six fifty,’ she countered. She estimated that this was just over double the retail price, still a hefty mark-up and well within what might be considered a reasonable figure to demand.

Rick snorted a laugh and swapped glances with his mother. There was a twinkle of amusement in Nancy’s eye.

He yawned. ‘I could drop to seven nine five, maybe.’

To knock off a measly five grand meant he was taking the piss and she had the feeling they’d lose respect for her if she didn’t make at least some attempt to push back on it.

Her jaw set firm, she shook her head. ‘I’d consider going to seven hundred.’

She waited tensely for his response.

He looked away for a few moments, pensively twiddling his wedding ring. Then he turned back to eye her intently.

‘Why do you want to buy so many guns?’ he asked.

Her cover story rolled off her tongue just as she’d rehearsed. ‘They’re for these right-wingers I know. Very well-funded. They’re kind of like preppers. They want to get their hands on as many guns as possible. They’re stockpiling weapons for WTSHTF.’

Puzzled frowns flashed around the room. ‘WTSHTF?’

‘When The Shit Hits The Fan,’ she said. ‘They think there’s going to be some kind of apocalypse. A race war. Something like that.’

Cover stories sounded much more plausible when they were integrated into the wider context of society. Bailey knew that with the global changes of the past few years, with Brexit and the fragmentation of old orders like the EU, there had been a rise in the politics of the right, along with an increase in individuals and groups preparing, or ‘prepping’, to deal with the uncertainties of the new era.

‘These “preppers”,’ said baby-face. ‘Where are they based?’

‘They’re out in the West Country. They live off-grid though. They’re paranoid about state surveillance. They don’t want anyone to know who they are or where they live.’ She’d gone for the off-grid element to hopefully deter the Molloys from checking them out.

‘How did you meet these “preppers”?’ said Rick.

‘I was doing a bit of business down in that part of the country. Driving for someone,’ she said, implying that she was ferrying some sort of illicit merchandise. ‘We got chatting around the pool table in the local pub one evening. They might live off-grid but they do like a pint. Anyhow, one thing led to another. You know how it is.’

Rick nodded slowly. ‘So what do you get out of it?’

‘A cut of the money for brokering the transaction.’

‘These people in the West Country,’ said Rick. ‘We’ll want to meet them.’

Bailey shook her head firmly. ‘And cut me out of the picture? I don’t think so.’

It was a risky move to make and one that could potentially scupper the deal right now, but she trusted her instincts and she knew how people like this operated. They always pushed for as much as they could take, and then some. Pushing back showed them she was a serious operator, not to be messed with.