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Manchester – they’re doing it and making big money. That’s why we’rein it. We’re all getting a share of it, but we’ve got to provide our share, Frank. That’s the deal. This is the future.’
    Al took a wrap of cocaine out of his drawer and opened it. ‘You knew that from the start, Frank. You knew the deal. You can’t back out now.’ He emptied the contents onto to the polished tabletop and chopped it into two lines. He looked up at Frank and raised his eyebrows.
    ‘Want a wee toot, Frank? It’ll make you feel better.’
    Frank shook his head and swallowed as he watched Al roll up a twenty-pound note and snort a line, then sit back.
    ‘Good stuff that. The fucking business.’ He sniffed, studying Frank.
    ‘That bloke,’ Frank said. ‘The one last week, from the two guys I gave you. One got away, your boys said. Did you get him yet?’
    ‘It’s under control, Frank,’ Al said. ‘You don’t need to know shit like that.’
    ‘But that’s what I mean, Al. It’s not under control if suddenly there’s some guy out there who can talk about what happened.’
    Al said nothing. He lit a cigarette.
    Frank sat forward. ‘And what about that body in the Clyde? That torso? I read in the Post it was a torso. There’s all sorts of speculation about it – ritual killing, drug murder. Then I heard something about organs being removed or something. Might even be a refugee, the paper said.’ Frank was trying to keep calm. ‘That was one ofyour guys wasn’t it, Al? How the fuck did it end up in the Clyde?’
    Al burst out laughing. But it was more the manic laughter that unnerves you than the kind you want to join in with.
    ‘I know. I asked the same question myself. Fucking hell. Try explaining that one away – a fucking headless torso with no lungs or heart. No baws either.’
    ‘What happened, Al? How did it get there?’
    Suddenly the door opened and Clock, along with the other sidekick came in, both of them dragging along a skinny guy with a badly bruised face. He was filthy and smelling.
    Al got up from his desk.
    ‘You want to know how it got there, Frank? Ask this cunt.’
    The skinny guy could barely stand up. His face was puffy and bloodstained, but Frank recognised him as Tam Logan, a small-time hood who worked for Big Jake.
    Frank looked at Tam, who winced in pain as his arms were being pinned behind his back.
    ‘He got greedy, Frank. Wee Tam got greedy. Simple as that,’ Al said.
    Frank looked from Al to Tam. His stomach was in knots. He was afraid to speak.
    ‘He didn’t just get greedy, he got brave .’ Al’s mouth curled a little. ‘This wee fuckwit even thought he could blackmail us. Can you imagine that? Fucker was going to blackmail me. Me! ’ He shook his head and his voice went up an octave.
    ‘What do you mean?’ Frank ventured.
    ‘He stole the fucking torso.’ Al said.
    ‘Stole it?’
    ‘Aye, stole it.’ He sniffed. ‘You know something, Frank? I gave Tam a break from the run-of-the mill jobs. Paid him big money to drive the van up and down to Manchester with the containers. You’d think he’d be grateful wouldn’t you?’ Al looked at Frank, who said nothing.
    ‘Aye,’ Al went on. ‘He should have been grateful. He wasn’t getting asked to shoot or slash anyone, or steal fuck all. No drugs involved, just drive the van and drop the stuff off. But no. Tam had to get nosy. He went on a wee spying mission like James fucking Bond and saw what was going on. Then he gets brave and decides he can make big money by blackmailing me.’
    Frank could see the beads of sweat beginning to appear on Al’s top lip, the more he was winding himself up.
    ‘I wouldn’t have done it, Al,’ Tam squeaked. ‘Honest, big man. I just went a bit crazy. I’d never have done it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, big man.’
    ‘A bit late to be sorry, Tam.’ Al turned to Frank, his eyes glassy. ‘You see what I’m up against Frank. You were saying what if things get out. Well, as long