‘Ran it by a mate only the other Tuesday.’

‘Like some of my merchandise, I have modified it, thus:

“it’s because I have sold to

the baseness of greed.”’

I drained the vodka, got down the last tinkle and said, ‘Fascinating and I’m sure you have a whole bunch of other quotes but, hey, let’s get to the guns – OK, how would that be.’

He stood and I don’t think he was well pleased.

‘I thought perhaps you were a fellow traveller, that through the instruments of destruction we could comprehend transcendence.’

‘Shit Joe, I have problems on the Northern Line – transcend that.’

So we weren’t going to be buddies, especially not asshole ones. He left the room and didn’t return for about twenty minutes. I nearly had a nap. Carrying two large flat cases, he opened them on the floor, began to pile out weapons, reciting, ‘You’ve got your Glock, lightweight, plastic, undetectable by airport technology, a Baretta nine millimetre Parabellum, small wars model, a Colt, the basic western gun, looks serious. The Detective Special, beloved of Special Branch, makes them feel like movie stars.

‘This big chappie is a Mark V1 Enfield. Yes, your assumption’s correct, from those good folk who brought us the Lee Enfield and World War One. A variety of Mausers, very efficient. Uzis of course and, I have stocks of CS Gas, so popular lately.’

He had a light perspiration on his forehead and I realised – ‘Jeez, this guy’s hot for them’. He said, ‘No need to rush. I’ll leave you alone and let you get acquainted. Standard items such as 12-gauge and Brownings I keep downstairs. Enjoy!’

I fiddled about with them, did a few movie poses, dropped to combat position and generally clowned around. I gathered he’d be watching so, wot the hell, give ’em a show. When he came back, I was seated quietly and I said, ‘The stage is BUR.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘El has left the building? No sweat, forget it.’