Before she could answer, she heard the door to the snug open. She turned her head and saw a wiry guy in his twenties sliding in through it, his eyes going straight to Bobby Mullen. He seemed anxious for permission to go further in or just to keep breathing. Mullen beckoned him with a sharp nod of his head and the rabbit strode forward to pass a folded piece of paper to the big man.

There was something lacking in coordination, something not quite natural, about the way the underling handed the note over that made Narey look at his other hand. She saw that the fingers were crooked, hanging open in a misshapen grip.

She’d heard stories about Bobby Mullen’s favoured method of showing his displeasure. The people who seriously aggravated him had a habit of disappearing or getting caught in freak fires. But those who showed disrespect or disloyalty, they got a personal lesson. His signature reprimand was to get people to place their fingers into the jamb of the nearest door. They would be given the choice of doing that or having their knees smashed so that they’d never walk again.

Given the choice of that or taking their chances that Bobby might just be testing them or possibly feeling forgiving, most did as they were asked. Bobby rarely felt forgiving. He’d grip the door in his shovel-like hands and force it fully open, trapping and crushing the fingers of whoever had made him unhappy. It was much better than kneecapping them. Instead, they’d quite literally be walking adverts for the dangers of pissing off big Bobby Mullen.

The mobile billboard in front of her stood looking at the nearest wall while Mullen read the note and crumpled it into his hip pocket. He reached out a hand and pulled the guy close enough for him to whisper in his ear. The message, whatever it was, was understood and the hired help nodded furiously. ‘Sure, Mr Mullen. No problem.’

The big man turned in time to catch Narey’s glance at his minion’s ruined hand. Knowing that she’d made the connection, he smirked, satisfied that the advertising had paid off. He kept smiling quietly as the man left the snug.

‘So, you were about to tell me why you’re in my pub, annoying me.’

‘What’s your relationship with Saturn Property?’

‘Business.’

‘Legitimate business?’

‘Is there any other kind?’

One of the men laughed behind her. She didn’t like that at all.

‘Well, I’ve heard there are other kinds. Like protection rackets.’

It was clearly Mullen’s turn not to like what he heard. His mouth curled up at the side and his face darkened. ‘You’re in the wrong place to be throwing around accusations you can’t back up. I’d recommend you be careful about what you say.’

‘Is that a threat?’

He laughed. ‘Take it any way you want, sweetheart.’

‘Did you know Jennifer Cairns?’

‘No.’

‘Ever heard of her?’

‘No. You’re pushing your luck, missus. Get to the point. I’m a busy man and I’m no exactly famous for my patience.’

‘How can a woman be killed in a property you’re protecting? How did she get in? How did the person that killed her get in?’

He shrugged like he didn’t care. ‘My company protects the site. We don’t patrol the perimeter like it’s a high security prison. If someone’s determined to get in somewhere then they will. Somebody got killed. Tough shit. Nothing to do with me.’

‘You’d better hope it isn’t. Hope that it’s nothing to do with you or anyone that works for you. Because if it is then I’ll find it.’

‘You’ve got balls, Detective Inspector Narey. I’ll give you that. But maybe you should take them back to Stewart Street before you lose them.’

The remark about the station made her hesitate, wondering about the note that was passed to Mullen and which was now crumpled in his pocket. She wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of asking but he had got inside her head. What else was written on that note? ‘Do you have CCTV covering the site?’ ‘No. Now get out of my face. I’ve had enough.’ The more he wanted her to go, the more she wanted to rattle his cage. ‘I’d like a list of all your employees who have worked on the Odeon site.’ ‘Then get a warrant. Or get to fuck.’ ‘Do you know Mark Singleton at Saturn?’ ‘Course I do. We do business together.’ ‘Singleton builds houses. Jennifer Cairns’ husband is an architect. Do you know him?’

‘The woman’s husband?’ Mullen seemed to give it some thought. ‘I wouldn’t think so. We look after the properties. We don’t get asked to design them.’ ‘Wouldn’t think so or no?’ ‘Okay, no.’

‘Is Singleton involved in any of your other business ventures?’

‘I wouldn’t think so. Small world though. Who knows?’

You do, Narey thought. You do. But she tried something else, a little gamble. ‘Maybe Mr Syme here knows. He’s your accountant - he’s bound to know something like that.’

She didn’t turn her head to look at the man behind her; instead she just stared at Mullen looking for a reaction. She got one. He leaned forward and banged a large fist on the table.

‘Hey! You’re here to talk to me. Don’t go talking to anyone else. You ask me. You don’t even look at anyone else.’

‘So.’ She kept her own voice level. ‘Is Mark Singleton involved in any of your other business ventures?’

He stood, towering over her, his cheeks flushed. ‘Just get the fuck out of here. Walk out now or regret it.’

One last and risky card. ‘What happened to Christopher Hart?’

There was a marked silence from the men behind her, as if they’d all held their breath at once. Mullen’s face was like a winter storm about to break. After a few moments, it burst, uncontrollably and surprisingly, into a harsh laugh.

‘Jesus, I don’t believe you. I really don’t. You’ve some front, lady. Crispy? You’re seriously asking me about Crispy?’

He stared but she didn’t answer. He was making his own mind up.

‘Okay, I’ll tell you this and then you go. Crispy wasn’t down to me. And I’m actually fucking offended you even asked. The people responsible, let’s call them competitors, were dealt with.’

‘And who was responsible?’

‘Out. Now.’

Narey knew it was all she was getting and far more than Mullen had intended to give. For that, she was grateful. She returned his stare for as long as she dared, which really wasn’t long at all, then pushed her chair back and stood up. ‘Nice chatting to you, Bobby. We’ll talk again.’

‘Aye? Well bring a warrant next time.’

‘Sure. And you bring a lawyer.’

She walked to the door of the snug in silence, the men parting in front of her and Mullen’s accountant holding open the door like a perfect gentleman. The silence continued until she had walked through the bar and onto the street. Then, all she could hear was the rush of her own breath.

She walked on auto-pilot, not caring in which direction she moved but in a hurry to get to the first corner so she could turn out of sight of the pub and let her back settle against a wall. Propped up by brick and adrenalin, she suddenly felt the need to talk to Winter, needed the reassurance of hearing his voice.

The phone rang half a dozen times before he answered. She’d been just about to give up when he spoke.

‘Hey. How are you?’

‘Um, good question. A bit frazzled, I guess. I could do with a hug.’

She knew it wasn’t like her and wasn’t surprised to hear him go quiet. That kind of thing, rare as it was, usually threw him.

‘You okay?’ he said at last. ‘Is it the case?’

‘Yes and yes. I just let something get to me when I shouldn’t. I’m fine. Are you busy?’

A pause. ‘Yeah, a bit. Got something I have to do. Can I catch you later? I’ll be good for that hug but I can’t just now. You sure you’re okay?’

She heard something beyond the words but couldn’t put her finger on what.

‘I’m fine. Are you working?’

Another pause. ‘It’s a case. Nothing exciting.’

‘Okay. I look forward to that hug. You coming to mine tonight?’