‘The boss wants to see you,’ Ironing Board said to Brian as he arrived at work the next afternoon. Brian didn’t bother answering him but as he was taking off his coat Arthur added, ‘Don’t bother with that. He wants to see you straight away.’

‘Jesus,’ he snapped, and gave Coleman’s idiot lackey a savage look. Coleman probably wanted to talk to him about that new Irish girl again. He hoped he had got rid of her like he told him to. The last thing he needed was that nosy cow sniffing around behind his bar. Especially with Shirley away, he couldn’t be sure his back was being covered. Coleman was going soft, especially on the girls these days. As Brian walked into Coleman’s office he noticed the moron had followed him in.

Coleman was standing with his back to the door and didn’t move.

‘What the hell is Ironing Board doing in here?’ Brian said, flicking his head behind him.

He turned and saw Arthur locking the door behind him, then popping the key in his handkerchief pocket before walking across the room and standing, legs apart, arms behind his back, next to Coleman. He adjusted his neck in his collar. Loosening himself up.

Brian felt sick.

‘I’ll tell you what Arthur is doing in here,’ said Coleman, turning around. ‘He is here looking out for an old friend. Isn’t that right Arthur?’

Coleman never called him anything but Arthur.

‘That’s right, boss.’

Arthur didn’t look like such an idiot now. His eyes were narrowed, like he had business in mind. Arthur looked hard and mean, like a man who could beat another man close to death with a prison-issue ironing board.

‘Arthur and I have known each other for a long time, haven’t we?’

Arthur nodded.

‘Arthur is a man who understands the value of friendship.’

‘Yes, I do.’ Arthur nodded.

‘And loyalty.’

‘Loyalty is very important,’ Arthur agreed, casually picking up a paperweight from Coleman’s desk and testing it in his hands for weight before placing it back down, ever so gently, as if afraid of scraping the leather.

‘And respect.’

‘Respect is very important,’ said Arthur before turning to Coleman and saying, ‘I respect you, boss.’

‘Thank you. And I respect you too, Arthur.’

Arthur closed his eyes in deferential thanks then the two men looked across at Brian.

He was hanging tough, keeping his mouth shut, inwardly praying that this banter was perhaps, just banter. Waiting, hoping against hope. However, both Coleman and Arthur could see from his saucer-like eyes and slack, slightly shivering jaw that he was not in good shape.

‘Coleman?’ Arthur said.

‘Yes?’ said Coleman.

‘Have you by any chance seen my cricket bat?’

‘Is that it there by the filing cabinet?’

‘Why, I do believe you’re right.’

Neither men took their eyes off Brian. As Arthur moved towards the filing cabinet Brian shouted out in a high, terrified voice.

‘It was Shirley! It was all her idea!’

Coleman felt disgusted that Brian had snitched Shirley out so willingly and so quickly.

Coleman, unlike his friend Arthur and boss Chevron, rarely laid a hand on anyone. Certainly never gratuitously. He worked with the truth that there was nothing to fear but fear itself. Once you started hurting a man you had lost him. Mostly though, if a man gave in to those urges, he lost himself. Coleman’s suave suggestion of violence was usually enough to get the truth out of people. If a man was sufficiently frightened, he would make himself disappear with no need for bloodshed. However, there were times that Coleman had to hold Arthur back. This, he knew, was going to be one of those times.

Arthur was shifting from side to side, his hands opening and closing in angry fists.

‘She put me up to it! Fixed everything up with the suppliers, everything. I didn’t mean to. I—’

Arthur was furious. ‘How dare you say that about Shirley. Blaming a woman? Shirley wouldn’t never do nothing like that. Shirley’s a lady…’

Brian let out a laugh. He couldn’t help it. Then, Arthur lost it.

‘You fucking scumbag! I’ll rip your fucking head off.’ As Arthur lunged across the room, Coleman pulled him back, wrapping both arms around his friend’s chest. Arthur’s weight was strained against him. He was furious and strong.

‘He’s not worth it,’ he said through gritted teeth. Then he whispered in his ear, ‘Come on mate, pull it together.’ These histrionics would get them nowhere. This was turning into a bloody shambles. ‘You OK?’ Coleman asked. Arthur nodded. Coleman loosened his grip, patted him on the back and said, ‘You go out and get the doors open. I’ll deal with this scumbag.’

Arthur’s outburst had frightened Brian, but the fact that Coleman had protected him gave him pause. When Arthur had gone, Coleman looked Brian in the eye and said, ‘To be honest, I’m not interested in what Shirley did or didn’t do and I’m not interested in you either. I just want you out of my club, today.’

That was true. Coleman already knew all he needed to know. Shirley had betrayed him, but she was angry with him, and although he would never have assumed that she was in love with him, he understood that she was a woman scorned. Brian, on the other hand, was a gambling, cheating, ill-mannered, lazy and – now it turned out – robbing scumbag. He had already wasted enough time on him. The best thing Coleman could do now was make sure that the club was run tight to try to make up the money they had lost, and keep this incident from Bobby Chevron. God knows what he would do to Brian, but more especially Shirley if he found out he’d been betrayed in this way. Coleman didn’t think it was worth anyone getting hurt over.

‘That it?’ Brian said. This was a lot easier than he had thought it would be.

‘That’s it,’ said Coleman. ‘Make yourself scarce, keep your mouth shut, and never come back. Ever.’

Woah, Brian thought, Coleman really has gone soft. No wonder Shirley was able to scam him. No comeback.

‘Keep my mouth shut, eh?’

‘That’s right,’ Coleman said. ‘Get out, stay out, keep your mouth shut about all of this and you’ll be safe.’

Brian looked over at him, a sly expression crossing his flabby features.

‘I suppose Bobby would be very upset if he found out what Shirley’s been up to.’

Coleman’s stomach tightened. The stupid idiot. He had really hoped he wouldn’t have to do this.

Coleman leaned across his desk and opened the top drawer. He could hear his own heart pumping as he reached in and slid out the Webley shotgun, sawn down to the size of a large handgun.

‘Jesus Christ!’ Brian shouted as Coleman lifted the weapon, pointed it directly at his face and began to walk towards him. Coleman’s face was as calm as it had been at the beginning of their encounter, before Arthur lost his rag.

‘Coleman, I – Jesus – don’t shoot me!’

Coleman kept walking until Brian’s back hit the door of his office then slid down the oak panelling until he was lying on the floor in a snivelling ball.

‘Please,’ he said. ‘Please. I won’t tell anyone.’

Coleman knelt down beside him and gently placed the cold barrel of the gun under Brian’s chin, then pulled it around, forcing him to look into his face.

‘I can’t trust you, Brian. I can’t trust you to keep your mouth shut, can I?’

‘You can trust me, Coleman, I swear. Please don’t kill me.’

‘Do you think I’m a fool?’

‘No, no, of course I don’t.’

‘If you think there will be any comeback on me for this, Brian, you’d be very wrong about that.’

‘I know, I know.’

‘If, IF, I decide not to shoot you, Brian, do you know what I am going to do?’

‘Please, Coleman, please don’t shoot me I—’

‘I’m going to call Bobby Chevron and tell him what you did – on your own – and tell him you tried to blame his old friend Shirley. Do you understand?’

‘Jesus, Coleman, don’t tell Bobby.’

‘Then, I’m going to get word out to Handsome Devers and tell him that you were banging his ex-wife, while they were still married. You understand?’

Brian wished, in that moment, that Coleman would shoot him.

‘I don’t like getting angry, Brian, but Handsome and Chevron, well, they’re men who enjoy getting angry. You understand?’

Then, Coleman stood up and brushed down the front of his jacket with the gun.

‘I like this suit and I don’t want it messed up today.’ He gave Brian a small kick to the leg to indicate it was safe for him to stand up.

‘I’ll give you a twenty-four hour start before I make those calls, Brian. Now make yourself scarce. And I mean invisible. Like you never existed.’

Which, Coleman thought to himself, I really wish you never had.

When Brian was gone, Coleman put the shotgun back in his office drawer. He smiled to himself. It was unloaded. A man was only as dangerous as he was convincing.

Nonetheless the encounter had pumped him up. Coleman could almost feel his veins harden with the surge of adrenalin and testosterone running through them. He still felt angry. He put his feet on the desk, leant back and took a few deep breaths to try to slow the beating of his adrenalin-fuelled heart, but it didn’t work. His limbs were fizzing. He was tight, agitated – all wound up. He needed to wind himself down, relax. So he decided to take a shower.