from one of the mummies' semis to the next. No sooner was he settled in a box bed than some greasy-skinned old boiler plumped in beside him, reached under his T-shirt and jollied him up so she could mount on top, slop-slop. Carl felt nothing save shame after these couplings – his first – but if he tried to wriggle away the entire semi would rise up against him.

By day Carl was allowed out to do the miserable graft of slaughtering Sweetë. With Carl acting as gaffer the older lads knocked up a crude gibbet, gathered seasoned crinkleleaf chips for the smoking fire and forayed in the woods for a suitable hollow log.

The Driver of Risbro, 76534, was impressed by the breadth of Antonë Böm's Knowledge, even if'Got a tail on your man. Only a small team 'coz he's a know-nothing. A steerer, a sweeper, hands-free, no bovva, find out what he's up to – best way.'

'Are you serious?'

'Never seriouser, wassermatter you got frostbite have you, son? Tippy-toes plopping off ? Been at the nosebag 'ave you – warned you 'bout that.'

'B-but the money, your fee – the tail's fee, Sweaty Betty's bloody fee – I can't afford all this.' There was a sound like a waste disposal being activated in the ether – so loud and sudden that Dave held the mobile inches away from his ear. When it stopped he realized that it had been the Skip Tracer laughing. 'Fee? I'm not bothered about the fee now, son, I told you from the