Shane was observing the fight with a faint expression of contempt, his arms crossed, and unlike the others he wasn’t cheering. ‘I’ve never been that into boxing myself,’ he grunted. ‘They might be able to punch hard, but that’s all they can do.’

‘You think you could beat one of them in a fight?’ said Bailey.

‘Piece of piss,’ he scoffed. ‘I could take either one of them easily. I’d neutralise him immediately with a single-leg takedown. Then, once he’s on the ground, he’d be toast.’

When it came to mixed martial arts, Bailey knew that Shane’s speciality was groundwork, in particular his hadaka-jime – a special blood choke that cut off blood to the brain, resulting in the extremely rapid submission of opponents. She would have liked to discuss the subject in more depth with him, but thought it wiser to keep her jiu-jitsu knowledge to herself. Talking about it might look suspicious and, anyhow, she preferred people to underestimate her abilities when it came to self-defence.

Next to her, Rick had no such reservations about the boxing. He was cheering loudly and gesticulating passionately and it sounded like he had money on the fight. Here, again, she was seeing a more animated side of him.

The bell rang, signalling the end of that particular round. Taking a breather, Rick turned to face her, flushed and slightly out of breath. He leant in close to her, speaking in her ear, his words just audible over the loud noise in the stadium.

‘We’re set to go,’ he said. ‘The ninth of March. I’ll clarify the precise details of the exchange closer to the time.’

Finally. The date of the transaction. So it was going to go down on the ninth of March. Bailey memorised the date, feeling an inner satisfaction at getting another step closer to the guns.

She nodded with an obliged smile. Rick nodded back, then turned his attention away from her to Archie, who was sitting to his right.

That was it. The message had been conveyed. Rick had invited her here basically just to tell her this small but very important piece of information; all because he didn’t like revealing the specifics of business over the phone.

She looked at the date on her watch. Today was the second of February. The ninth of March was still over a month away. The delay made her almost certain now that the guns still hadn’t entered the country yet.

‘I’m going for a piss,’ said Shane, getting up and leaving the box.

After a few moments, Nancy moved into Shane’s seat to sit directly next to Bailey. She leaned in close.

‘Rick loves boxing,’ she said, eyeing her son with affection. ‘Both of my sons went to the local boxing gym in Ilford when they were kids. Rick was pretty good at it. Adrian was hopeless… but he turned out to be very good at gambling, and losing, money on it.’ She sighed with a slight expression of dismay. ‘That was his problem really. Adrian had no impulse control. Too short-term. No sense of the bigger picture. He was under the illusion that crime was the shortcut to wealth, but no one told him that you have to graft if you want to succeed. Crime is no different from any other business in that respect. That’s why I like you, Bailey. You’re a grafter.’