I knew I could go either way. Kiss ass and have him enjoy it or, ‘Ever keep greyhounds Quinn?’

‘That’s sergeant to you. Wotcha mean?’

‘Oh nothing, you remind me of White City, I thought perhaps yer Dad was into them, know wot I mean?’

Noble cut in, but first a glance at Quinn that said ‘Jeez, he does look like one!’

‘Davy, we have a problem, there’s been a string of bank jobs, all over the bloody shop. Two-man outfit, very pro, very classy. Would you know anything about these?’

‘Can’t help you there, repo is what I do.’

Noble sighed.

‘I feel it in my water Dave that you could help us, wouldn’t do for the nick to repossess you.’

The barman came over, asked, ‘Is the orange off or wot?’

Quinn didn’t look up, said, ‘Fuck off.’

He did.

Noble stood and gestured to Quinn, who kept his eyes locked on me, said, ‘We’ll be in touch Dave, I just know you’re going to be a big help.’

When they were gone, I carried the glasses over to the bar, said, ‘Sorry about those wankers, mebbe you could recycle these.’

He slung ’em down the sink, said, ‘Naw, they’re friggin’ contaminated, am I right.’

‘Absolutely.’

Three days passed, no sign or light of Cassie. Doc had the heavy word out but no show. I began to relax, figured she’d headed for higher ground. Kept thinking of her though, the leather sex, the bloody chemistry of the crazy bitch. But I knew I was better off without her. The hell of it is, trouble is so exciting and I’d been sliding along, not bored but heart not beating rapid either. The repo business was doing good and I’d gone to Brixton to suss out a major job. Done that and drifted into the big pub on the corner. Ordered mash and a banger, half a bitter. Found a table at the window and dug in. Never heard her till she sat opposite, she glanced at the food, said, ‘No shit Cooper, but is that phallic or wot.’

I cut the sausage, hefted a wedge and she licked her bottom lip, whispered, ‘Give it to me big boy.’