Then, in prison, he became obsessed with weights and bodybuilding and with the increased muscles he developed a sly confidence. It came from knowing that people were afraid of him. Ray was the first to exploit this new development and used him as an enforcer. Jimmy was impervious to pain and, short of shooting the fucker, he wouldn’t go down. After Ray’s release they’d gotten the Mews place and begun a spree of petty larceny and mild intimidation. They hadn’t any huge ambition and, so long as they had beer money and some dope, they were reasonably content with their lot.

All that had changed the night they went to the strip club. Ray was hoping to exert some pressure on the manager when Angie came on the stage. The brothers watched open-mouthed. She was the most beautiful thing they’d ever seen. It would probably have never moved from their distant admiration if a punter hadn’t begun hassling Angie. A bald, middle-aged git with an attitude, he was pinching her bottom and she wasn’t liking it. Jimmy had moved, grabbed the guy by the collar and smashed his head on the bar, twice. Angie was impressed and when Ray asked her if she’d like to have a drink after, she agreed. They’d ended up at their place and she gave Jimmy a hand job. Then Ray got to bed her and she’d never moved on.

Slowly, she’d begun to organise their activities and the money began to roll in. Then Jimmy had found the dynamite and the whole operation moved up a notch. Ray thought it was crazy but Angie had a way of persuading them.

He said:

‘It’s fucked is what it is… you wanna know why?’

She gave him the sensual smile that usually signalled she was about to throw a tantrum but he carried on, said:

‘See, it’s the ransom money, or the extortion or whatever; you can ask what you like but the fuck is trying to collect it. The nick is full of guys who got paid then got nicked. You hear what I’m saying?’