'One at a time, Susie – picked up by who?'

'What?' Jimmy looked quickly from one to the other. 'Somethin' happened to the boys?'

'I don't know…' Susie bent forward, hands clenched, and screamed at the top of her voice, 'I don't know!'

The phone rang. Dillon held up his hand as Susie made a move. 'I'll answer it.' He went into the hall.

Susie watched him, her eyes large and bright, her body straining forward as if waiting for the starter's pistol. 'Oh please dear God, please let it be them…' She saw his shoulders tense. He turned then, and when she saw his face, rigid, the muscles twitching in his jaw, Susie nearly had heart seizure. Barely moving his lips, she heard him say, 'You touch a hair on their heads an' I'll swear I'll -'

'What is it? Frank? Frank?'

Dillon put the phone down. His teeth bit deep into his lower lip, forcing the blood out, while his dark hooded eyes bored into Jimmy's with an intense smouldering anger. He said hoarsely, 'Jimmy and me'll bring 'em back.'

'Where are they…?' Susie whispered. 'Frank?'

'Stay put, Susie, it's just a misunderstanding… stay here! Mum, look after her!' Dillon slowly brought his hand up and pointed at Jimmy. 'You, with me. Move.'

Down on the second landing, Dillon said, 'That bastard's got my kids, Jimmy. He's got my kids.'

They reached the courtyard just as the black Jaguar Sovereign was ghosting in from the street, Newman's chief minder Colin in the passenger seat, his bruiser's mug bearing the marks of Harry's night ops. Kenny and Phil waved through the rear window, loaded up with Indian temple bells, papier-mache masks, brass candlestick holders and sundry other Third World trash.

Colin stood by the open door as they tumbled out with their spoils. 'Mr Newman just wanted to show you how easy it is, Frank.'

Dillon stepped forward, fists bunched, and Colin held up his hand, smiling. 'Not in front of your boys, Frank…' He got back in the car, slid the window down. 'You've got something that belongs to our Guv'nor. Hand it over – simple as that.' His eyes shifted from Dillon's face. 'Tell him, Jimmy.'

Dillon stood between the boys, hands on their shoulders, his face carved from stone. 'You tell Newman I'll bring it to him,' he said as the car pulled away. 'Personally.'

Harry was trying for his good housekeeping badge, tidying up what was left of the office, when Dillon and Jimmy walked in twenty minutes later. Dillon got the tool box from the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet and took out a hammer, chisel and screwdriver.

'I got me sister faxin' all the details direct to the bank,' Harry told them, sweeping rubbish into a nice neat pile in the corner. 'Cliff's out buyin' weddin' bells.'

'If that bank manager was to come down here,' said Dillon grimly, 'we'd not get a post office savin' book, never mind a loan.' He gripped the hammer, a frown of concentration on his face as he stared at the broken elephant. 'Newman kidnapped my kids for this…'

'For chrissakes, Frank,' Jimmy panicked, 'he just wants the bloody thing back!'

Dillon angrily shook off the restraining hand. 'Nobody threatens me, nobody gets my kids, frightens my wife, and I just take it!' His fierce glare made Jimmy back off. 'What went down when you saw Newman, Jimmy? And don't give me any bullshit -'

'Frank, I told you, I swear.' Jimmy held out both palms towards the elephant. 'He just wants that.'

Dillon raised the hammer, ready for an almighty swing, and then slowly lowered it. He blinked, and his jaw dropped. 'Oh man…' he said softly, almost mouthing it, '… it's staring at us in the face. Newman deals in gems, right? What if these were real?' He tapped the beads and coloured glass woven into the headpiece. 'Look at the bloody size of them.'

Taking the screwdriver, he prised out one of the fragments, a cold blue fire in its depths, and placed it in the centre of the desk.

'Okay, Harry – hit that with the hammer!'

Gripped in both meaty hands, Harry brought it down with all his eighteen stone. The desk split across the middle and caved in. All three down on their knees, muttering and cursing, scrabbling and searching. A glint amongst the debris. Dillon plucked it out and with a grin of triumph held it up – intact.

'Bingo!'

The warehouse was in darkness but there was a light burning in Newman's office. Dillon walked in without knocking. Under his arm he carried a shapeless parcel wrapped in newspaper. Jimmy stayed by the open door, trying not to look at anything specific, in particular Newman's face, a pale, gaunt death mask in the light of the desklamp.

Colin uncoiled from his chair, and Newman made a tiny fluttering motion with his fingers. 'S'all right.' He motioned the minder to leave. Colin went out, giving Jimmy a hard stare, and shut the door.

'Sit down, Frank. Want a drink?'

Dillon placed the parcel in the middle of the blotter and folded his arms. Newman unwrapped it. His face didn't alter when he saw the battered elephant, nor even the empty headpiece, the stones plucked out. He merely sat hack in his chair, his pointed tongue flicking out across the wide slit of his mouth.

Dillon took a small canvas bag from his pocket and dangled it.

'Eight crates. That was a big shipment, Mr Newman. Very decorative.'

'Very lucrative.' Newman reached out. 'Hand them over, Frank.'

'Five grand?' Dillon's face went ugly. 'We been caught, we'd have got more than five years each.'

'I can pick your kids up any time, Frank – understand me?' The soft voice, dipped in acid, was back. 'This isn't some two-bit racket, this is an organised -'

Enraged, Dillon said venomously, 'And I can have the law pick you up – Mister Newman – any time. You want to play it that way…' he nodded, 'fine by me. If I'm not out of here in ten minutes, I got one of my lads waitin' by a phone.' He held up the canvas bag, clutched tight. 'An' if you want to try an' get these by force -' Dillon lifted his head and bellowed, 'Harry!'

The door was kicked open. Framed in the doorway, Harry and a mate of his, built like a brick shithouse, had a furious, struggling Colin pinioned between them. Newman stared at Dillon, tight-lipped with fury, a tiny muscle twitching near his left eye.

'How much?'

Dillon sat down and leaned forward, forearms flat on the desk.

'I want a legit lease on the premises – four years'll do. We'll pay you a fair rent.' Newman tried to interrupt. 'I'm not finished. Plus, we want it re-wired, telephones installed, and an agreement to run a business on the premises. Then the damages to the furniture, re-decoration…'

'An' that's it?' Newman said after a little silence had collected. He reached for a cheroot and moistened the end of it.

Dillon nodded. 'One more thing,' and the husky softness in his voice made Newman pause in the act of lighting it. 'I see them near my kids -' Dillon turned his head and looked deliberately into Colin's face and deliberately back again ' – then it becomes personal. I'll do ten for you, Newman, understand?'