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Spittle shot out of his mouth and he dabbed it with a crumpled silk handkerchief. He repeatedly banged his hand on the desk, venting his fury. Then, he removed a pen from his pocket and, gripping it like a knife, scratched a deep mark across the surface.

Tony shrugged, unmoved by Arnie’s rage. ‘It only cost a ton to do up,’ he said. ‘You should be grateful!’

Arnie pulled out another drawer and flung it across the room, missing Tony’s head by inches. Tony didn’t give a toss. He never worried when Arnie threw a right old wobbler. It always blew over. The only time you needed to be worried or cautious where his brother was concerned was when he was nice to you, when he smiled that strange, thin-lipped, tight smile. Right now, his teeth were chomping up and down like a donkey’s. Tony left the room as Boxer entered.

Arnie got himself back in control, rubbing his hand gently up and down the varnished antique desk. ‘Look at this, Boxer. This desk is inlaid and that idiot gets some...’ Arnie stopped himself before he got angry again. ‘He’s got no class, my brother. No eye for beautiful things.’ Boxer was just as ignorant as Tony, of course, but at least he had the decency to look sorry. Arnie sat back in his leather-studded chair and folded his arms behind his head.

‘So, what’ve you got for me, Boxer?’ he asked.

‘Not a lot, Mr. Fisher. I told her you were willing to pay good money for Harry’s ledgers, but she didn’t even flinch. If you ask me, she doesn’t know where they are.’

‘I’m not asking you!’ Arnie snapped. Tony slipped back into the room to see if everything was all right.

‘If you give me a bit more time, Mr. Fisher, I’ll try again. She’s still very upset. It’ll be easier to talk to her when she’s calmer.’ Tony was standing very close to Boxer’s right shoulder now, practically staring down his ear as he listened to Boxer’s feeble excuses. He was dying to interrupt, to intimidate and bully this weak and pathetic man. Boxer stood with his head bent, shuffling his feet.

‘Is that it?’ Tony asked as he closed in even further on Boxer.

Arnie raised his hand — just a flick, but it was enough for Tony to keep quiet. Then he jerked his head. Tony was about to stand his ground, but he saw that tight nasty smile, thought better of it, and left the room.

Boxer shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He was scared of Arnie; he hated himself for it, but the nasty little queen gave him the runs. You just never knew where you stood with him. Tony was different. A real womanizer who would screw anything if it had all its limbs, he was quick to use his fists if he felt it necessary. At times he was punch-crazy — but at least you could see it coming with Tony. Arnie’s stare was far more terrifying.

‘Time, Boxer, is something I may not have,’ said Arnie. ‘You do understand what might be in those ledgers, don’t you?’

‘I do. I do know, Mr. Fisher, and I am doing my very best for you.’

‘Your very best is shit. When exactly did you have this pointless conversation with Dolly Rawlins? I sent you there days ago.’

Boxer stuttered his way through another excuse. ‘I didn’t want to come back with nothing, Mr. Fisher. I was trying to think of another way to get her to cooperate, you see. I didn’t come up with nothin’, so I thought I’d better come round and tell it like it is. I told her straight though. I said: “Don’t you go to anyone else cos Mr. Fisher’ll be very angry.” She won’t do anything stupid, honest she won’t.’

One raised finger from Arnie and Boxer fell silent, like a terrified dog with a bullying owner.

‘You’re gettin’ your knickers in a right twist, ain’t ya, Boxer? Job too much for you, is it? Can’t you handle it? Want Tony to take over with Dolly Rawlins, do you? Eh?’

Boxer knew exactly what Tony would do if he got given the job of getting Dolly to talk. ‘No, don’t do that, Mr. Fisher. Let me speak to Dolly again. Please!’

Arnie removed his glasses and began polishing them slowly. ‘You asked for more time and I’m going to give it to you. You got two weeks, my old son, two weeks. If you don’t come up with the ledgers by then I’ll send Tony in to see to the widow, an’ you know how Tony likes the ladies, don’t you?’

The phone rang, Arnie picked it up and instantly went all coy, wriggling his body. ‘Hello, Carlos. I’m fine, darlin’, I’m fine. Hang on a sec — piss off then, Boxer, and remember this: if anyone’s named in them ledgers for sure, it’s you. You used to work for the bastard. Now get out before I set Tony on ya.’

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