‘Well, Raymond was a pro, wasn’t he?’ George gave Don a look, as if to say, And I thought you were too.

‘I’ve never shot anyone in my life, George. In the old days, fists were enough, maybe a bottle or a knife now and again.’

‘These aren’t the old days.’ George thought for another moment. ‘I need to talk to Hanley, make sure he’s okay. Meantime, you need to find your car. And there’s still that other little matter to be taken care of.’

Don nodded. ‘What about our bandit friend?’

‘He’s wounded, maybe badly wounded. He’s got to have ended up in hospital.’ George jabbed a finger at Don. ‘So start making some calls.’

‘Then we pay him a visit?’

George just nodded. ‘Was Raymond married? Is there someone we should send flowers to?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Find out, will you?’

‘Before or after the other matter?’

George glowered at him. ‘What do you think? No, never mind what you think. Whoever was wearing that mask, they knew the cash was being handed over. That means it’s someone we know, or someone Hanley knows. It means someone somewhere has blabbed or else got greedy. It means they’re close, Don. And if they’re close, we’re going to have no trouble finding them.’

Don nodded his agreement. Thing is, George, he thought to himself, you don’t know how close.

‘When do we tell Stewart?’ he asked.

‘When I’m ready,’ George snarled, marching back towards his dogs and the Portakabin.

Don waited for another minute, then headed in the same direction. The German Shepherds snarled and spat, baring their teeth. They were up on their back legs, front legs off the ground and pawing at the air, willing their studded collars to break. Don ignored them and headed for the Bentley. He didn’t know whose car it was. There was some dust on the windows and a bit of mud on the tyres. Plus some of Raymond’s blood and brain matter on the right-side wing. A wipe would get rid of it. Or a hose, if you wanted to be really careful. But the inside of the car was clean, immaculate in fact. He considered his options. But if he kept it, it would be noted as missing, and the cops would assume Raymond’s killer had taken it. No, Gorgeous George was right, it had to be turned into scrap. Shame, though.