‘That gives us proof of what you know. Maybe we’ll even take a few wee snaps of you in action. After that, it’s time for financial reparation, and you’re going to be giving till it hurts, as they say. Once we’ve got the money, you and Cairns and Raeside can come back and move the bodies so there’s no way we can hurt you and no more reason for you to hurt us.’

And what if I don’t know where these people are buried?’ McDade asked, with earnest anxiety.

‘Then we still go up the Campsies, except you use the shovel to dig a big hole, I put two in your head and bury you there, and we go through all this again tomorrow night with Bob Cairns or Bill Raeside.’

‘Christ,’ McDade muttered, sounding broken. ‘How much do you want?’

‘Three hundred thousand. Two for Jasmine, one for me.’

‘Three … ?’ he gasped, giving a hollow laugh of incredulity. Jasmine didn’t rate his acting. ‘You’re forgetting you’re dealing with polis, not gangsters, Fallan. We’re skint. We’re gaunny be living off pensions in a year or so.’

‘Aye, I’d sympathise, if it wasnae that I was talking to this jewel thief who saw you walking out of Central station on Thursday morning with a very big bag of uncut heroin. My sources tell me Frankie Callahan was paying three million per shipment. Now, obviously you’d have to be charging Tony McGill less for the drugs per se, maybe two mill, but once you factor in taking out the competition for him as well, it’s got to be up to at least two point five. Maybe two point four so it’s a three-way split of eight hundred each. Or is there somebody else?’

McDade visibly seethed, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the wheel.

‘Nobody else.’

‘McDade, Cairns and Raeside … and now Fallan again, just like the old days, eh? Except this time Fallan’s not taking an equal share of the payout. Just a kick in the arse over ten per cent. That seems fair enough, doesn’t it? So once we’ve seen the bodies, you’re going to make some calls. We want it tonight. All of it.’

‘We don’t have it.’

‘Bollocks you don’t,’ Fallan said, sticking the silencer into McDade’s groin. ‘The station job was Thursday morning and it’s now Tuesday night.’

The van wobbled a little between lanes on the motorway, then came back into line.

‘You think Tony McGill hands over three million quid just like that?’ McDade asked.

‘No, I’m guessing there’s instalments, but if you’d any sense, the biggest one would be upon initial delivery. A third, maybe? Twenty per cent?’

‘Twenty-five,’ McDade admitted with a sigh.