I would if I had his number,' I say.

I gave you his number.'

I lost it. I had an altercation with a couple of Stokes' boys.’

‘They beat the shit out of you.’

‘You can tell, huh?'

'You're mumbling,' he says. 'So you know where Stokes is.’

‘He's about. But I don't know how long he'll hang around. He thinks I'm out of the picture.’

‘Then I'll get Mo up there.' I want to find him first.'

'It's too late for that. I'll get Mo to call you from the road.' And he hangs up, leaving me with a dead line and an open mouth.

Well, that could have gone better.

I check my watch, try to work this out. Okay, give Mo a couple of hours to rally his bruisers, three hours on the road and he should be up here by tonight. Which doesn't give me nearly enough time. Donna's voice keeps telling me I should let this lie, but I can't do that. I don't relish the idea of Mo taking over. This is my job, and if he finds Stokes without my help, I'll still owe Tiernan. Which sends me right back to square one.

I can't have that. This is do or die.

When I glance at the cab driver, I see him staring at the package on my lap. His forehead is furrowed deep. I'm not surprised. A guy with a knocked-up head gets in his cab and starts talking about finding another guy, well, I can see how he'd leap to conclusions. I decide to play it friendly, give him a smile to show I'm harmless. He goes white.

'It's alright, mate,' I say, but my voice is too guttural.

He doesn't reply.

In fact, we don't exchange another word until he drops me off in Benton. Just to show there's no hard feelings, I tip him, but he's still out of there sharpish. I watch the taxi disappear before I light up and walk to my Micra, still where I left it.

There's no pleasing some people.

FORTY-FIVE

'Dad, I'm at home, where the fuck else would I be?’

‘You weren't at home last night.'

'Nah, I were out with Rossie and Baz. Had some business to take care of.'

'You make much?' I didn't like the tone of Dad's voice. Summat wrong with it, either like he were trying to butter us up or he were taking the piss.

'Some,' I said.

I got a call from Innes,' he said. Me cheek reacted, but me voice didn't. 'What's up?’

‘Nothing much. He's in Newcastle. Stokes is up there.’

‘He got an address yet?'

'No. He knows where Stokes is, though. And he's going to need all the help he can get. A couple of Stokes' boys worked him over.'

'When were this?'

'I don't know. Just get whoever you need and get up to Newcastle. And give Innes a call from the road.' And then Dad gave us Innes' new number. I wrote it down. I broke the connection and sat there staring at Rossie and Baz. Baz caught me eye and I jerked me head. They could come back from fuckin' Coventry.

'What you grinning at?' said Rossie.

'Stokes and his lads did over Innes last night.'

'Fuckin' hell.'

'Saved us a job,' said Baz.

Yeah, I thought. Like you two would be any fuckin' use. 'So where's Stokes?'

'I dunno yet. But I want to go back to that flat, see if anyone's about, know what I mean? He were looking fuckin' proud of himself yesterday, so he got summat there. If he got a lead, we'll get a lead.'

'You don't know which flat it is,' said Rossie. Always the fuckin' nay-sayer.

'I'll sniff it out. If Alison were round there, I'll know it. Trust us.'

'Cause there were summat I had that Innes didn't. I knew me sister inside out. I knew what she were like and I knew the way her fuckin' mind worked.

Which meant that I'd get the bitch before Innes did.

'Y'alright, mate? I lost me keys.'

This lad with a beard and a belly didn't care, and he held the door open for us to prove it. I pushed through, Baz and Rossie behind us. 'Cheers, mate.'

Went up the stone steps, looked about the walkway.

'Well?' said Rossie. 'Where's she live?'

I didn't know. Shook me head. I could work summat out. Just had to think about it. Headed up one way, but it was all fuckin' pot plants and fancy number signs. Nah. Went back to the other end, and I knew we was in business. The door to thirty-five was open and the place stank like a burning poof. That were Alison. She loved all that fuckin' incense and shit. I looked at Rossie and Baz, jerked me head towards the door and pushed it wide open.

On the right, there was stairs. I told Rossie to go up them and check it out. Baz came with me. I didn't have nowt in the way of protection apart from me fists. But Baz and a wicked- keen Stanley. We went into the front room, all quiet. Ready to fuck someone over if they wanted to play ninja. Nowt in here.

Looked like the place'd been fuckin' trashed an' all. I picked up a cushion and squeezed it like a stress ball. Me nose started running so I wiped it on the cushion and kept squeezing.

'You sure this is the right place, Mo?' said Baz.

I didn't answer him, went out into the hall and shouted up the stairs. 'Rossie, you found owt up there?'

Rossie appeared at the top of the stairs. 'You don't want to see this fuckin' bathroom, man.'

I tossed the cushion, took the stairs two at a time, pushed Rossie out the way. He were right — I didn't want to see the fuckin' bathroom. The smell were enough. Alison were a proper pig. That's why she used all that incense, hide the smell of her dirt. I said to Baz, 'Give us your Stanley.'

Baz dug deep into his trackies, handed it over. I clicked the blade out as far as it went and pushed open a door. The bedroom. Me eye itched so I scratched it. Went over to the mattress on the floor, still had the sheets on it, but nowt else in the room. They'd done a runner. That, or they lived like fuckin' squatters. On that mattress.

'Y'alright, Mo?' said Rossie.

I pushed the bedroom door shut, didn't take me eyes off the mattress. Lousy fuckin' cooze. If she wanted to come back, she'd have summat waiting for her. I got down on me knees and started slashing at the mattress, cut the fucker to ribbons. Tugged me way through the sheets and whistled while I worked, got me bladder pressed. When it were time, I pulled me cock out and pissed all over the remains.

Try fucking on that, Alison.

When I got out the bedroom, Rossie and Baz was waiting for us.

'What now?' said Baz. Rossie were staring at what was left of the mattress.

'Now we tear what's left of this shithole apart until we get a lead,' I said.

And I pulled Rossie away from the bedroom so's we could start on the downstairs.

The GM Maxi Senior Cricket Bat.

It's a big bat in every way; handcrafting bows the blade into the drive area to produce the unique GM PowerArc shape. A special pressing technique blended with a massive swell and strong edges gives the powerful players the bat of choice for awesome hitting.

Awesome hitting. I like that. Nice ring to it. The Maxi's sitting across my lap right now. It feels too light to be of any use, but then what do I know? As long as it doesn't break into firewood on the first decent swing, I couldn't care less.

But then, the box doesn't say anything about using it on someone's legs.

Anger management. Controlling your emotion so it doesn't spill out and hurt yourself and other people. I know all about that. I did courses in jail about that. I had to. It made the authorities think you were serious about rehabilitation, and it passed the time.

'When you feel that urge, Deffenbacher suggests that you picture yourself as a god or goddess, a supreme ruler, striding alone and having your way in all situations while others defer to you. The more detail you can get into your imaginary scenes, the more chances you have to realise that maybe you are being unreasonable; you'll also realise how unimportant the things you're angry about really are.'