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nothing in return. ‘This chap is going to transfer the cash into an EBT – employees’ beneficial trust – within three days. It’s the same vehicle those naughty bankers use to move their multi-million-dollar bonuses out of harm’s way. Everything’s good, everything’s legal. And that’s why we love you, isn’t it?’
    Red Ken had taken his second shot and it wasn’t much better than his first. He hurled the club back into his bag. ‘Dex is right. It’s all legit, son. You’ll have no funny money to deal with. If you take it into the UK, they’re going to want to tax you – that’s how legal it is. How do you think I got my Merc? The system works.’
    ‘But where’s that money come from? Like the sirloin here just said, he’s a facilitator. He makes things happen. So who’s the Kobe beef – you know, the banker – coughing up a shed-load of cash just for us to be on the job? Haven’t you bothered to ask? Lads, what the fuck’s going on?’
    Dex put his arm round Spag. ‘Our chubby little friend won’t tell us, and I, for one, do not care who our banker is. But this chap here, he knows that if our money isn’t in the EBTs within three days bad things will happen. Don’t you, old chap?’
    Red Ken had recovered from his disappointment. ‘He knows we’ll find him.’
    I was sure they would, but that didn’t help me know what I wanted to know.
    Dex slapped Spag on the shoulder and headed for his buggy. I had expected Spag to do his nut by now, but he kept his cool as we all mounted up and headed for his ball. I even saw him smile a little as he drove.
    Once the four buggies were parked up around the ball, Spag was back on the case. ‘Remember, the pilot will keep it on the ground for no more than thirty minutes. If you ain’t there, the deal’s off.’
    ‘Load of shite. You’ll stay there. Anyway, we’ve never missed an RV.’
    My arse was getting sweaty on the PVC. ‘We carrying weapons?’
    Spag almost jumped out of his skin. ‘What the fuck? No weapons!’
    Dex pulled out a club for him, wanting to get on with the game. ‘He’s right, Nick. If we need them, we won’t be doing the job correctly.’
    Red Ken agreed.
    Dex handed Spag a club. ‘Here you go, Tiger. Let’s move on. Got another seventeen holes after this one.’
    Spag’s shot flew straight and true towards the flag, just as a couple of grass-cutters, Indian lads with bits of cloth wound round their heads and necks against the sun, moved into view. ‘Hey, fore! Get out the fucking way! Jee-sus, these assholes!’
    Red Ken shot out an arm and gripped him. ‘Wind your fucking neck in! These people sweat their guts out sixteen hours a day, six days a week – all for eight dollars a day. Dubai is being built by these slaves while all the fucking overweight local babies just whinge and whine.’
    Spag pushed past to get to his buggy. ‘Don’t give me that bullshit. You don’t think the Mexicans are treated badly in New York City? And you Brits had slaves living in basements for hundreds of years.’ His tic had kicked off and the moustache started to twitch. ‘Fuck, Red, you people built entire cities on the proceeds of the slave trade, so don’t lecture me. Look at the positives. You have any idea what this country does for its own people?’
    He started ticking off the benefits on his fingers. ‘ Free education up to PhD level. Free houses when they get married. Free health care. Even their phone calls are free. Everybody has a maid, a nanny, a driver – you name it, they’ve got it. They don’t even pay taxes. Shit, of course this is a fucking great place for Emiratis. Thirty years ago these people were living in tents, scratching around for water – and now look at the place.’
    Red Ken’s face was purple. He took a pace and moved it right into the American’s. ‘It’s Disneyland.’ He pointed at the workers sheltering under some trees. ‘These fuckers’ passports are taken away when they arrive, and