If Felix ‘Forefinger’ O’Pretty was being honest with himself, protective custody hadn’t been the calming sinecure he’d been led to believe. He accepted that, set against some of the gnarled veterans of the criminal fraternity, he wasn’t the smoothest lockpick in the set and his tendency to drink and then talk too much had led to him using up two of the promised three new personalities the Met Police had offered him when he turned Queen’s Evidence against Harold ‘Firstfinger’ Nightpoultice. That followed the failure of the South Barchester Mega RamRaid which led to all twenty four tractor drivers being arrested while carrying ATMs in their scoops, the failure being his responsibility having sourced adulterated red diesel on the cheap. Several fingers had pointed at Forefinger and he’d become a marked man, even before he was given the possibility of a nark’s redemption.

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