‘Never happen Sir – I took precautions.’

I wanted to pound him, asked, ‘What do you suggest I do now?’

‘Run.’

‘This amuses you, doesn’t it. OK, gloat while you can but keep hoping I run far.’

‘When you dallied with Iris, you did me a grievous injury.’

I turned to leave, left him with, ‘Nice term that – grievous injury – has the proper note of righteous pain. What’s more, I’m going to run it by you when I feed you your balls at a date to be arranged. Might I add, you can count on it.’

First I went to the lock-up. It doubles as a bolt hole – got bunk, kettle, shower, phone. All the vitals. Phoned Jimmy, he’s a minor burglar I met in prison, he’d told me, ‘There are some things a man won’t do for money. Luckily, I’m not one of those men.’

He had the form to prove it.

‘Jimmy?’

‘Yeah.’

‘It’s Cooper.’

‘The Repo Man.’

‘Yeah, that too. Like to knock down a few hundred?’

‘You want me to nick somefin.’

‘Actually, I want you to add something. If I give you the guy’s name, could you find his gaff and hide an item there.’

‘Bit unusual, is this on the up an’ up?’

‘How does four hundred sound?’

‘What’s his name?’

I met Jimmy in the bar at Victoria Station. He arrived in a natty three-piece suit, hair spit-combed and I’d swear a regimental tie, said, ‘Looking good Jimbo.’

‘I’ve been taking lessons.’

‘Is that a regiment tie?’

‘Sure is – the Argylls – or is it the Enniskillens, one of those bods.’

‘Why?’

‘Opens a lot of doors.’

‘You’re the best judge of that.’

‘I have a Masonic one too but, I have to be careful, I’ve never quite mastered the handshake. Is it a Mason or a Jesse, you know, a fella who’s very friendly.’

Jimmy was smoking roll-ups, Old Holborn and, like a true con, he was a master. He offered, ‘Smoke?’