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was a cheeky little joke. Set a thief to catch a thief, they say, isn’t it, and so, likewise, with her. Walk into a place, one sniff of the I Suppose, and your ma knew exactly how many rats was in there, and where. Recidivist, traitor, they called her, but I suppose that’s the power of love ...’
    Saul was incredulous, staring and staring at King Rat.
    ‘She wasn’t built for the likes of you. You bumped her off on arrival. You’re a big strong lad, sonny, stronger than you probably think. There’s a lot you can do you don’t know about. I bet you gawped out of all those night-time windows longer and harder than any of your mates. I think you’ve been scrabbling to get into this city for real for a long time.
    ‘You want to know who did the deed on your old man, I know. That’s what you call petulance, that is, that bod smashed out front, in the garden.
    ‘The one who did that... he was after you. Your old dad just got in the way.
    ‘You’re a special boy, Saul, got special blood in your veins, and there’s one in the city who’d like to see it spilled. Your mum was my sister, Saul.
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    ‘Your mum was a rat.’

CHAPTER FOUR
    With that insane allegation hanging in the air, King Rat rocked back onto the flesh of his arse and fell silent.
    Saul shook his head and struggled between incredulity and excitement and disgust.
    ‘She was ... what?’
    ‘A ... fucking ... rat.’ King Rat spoke slowly. ‘She crept out of the sewers because she fell for your dad.
    More tragic than Romeo and Juliet. And her of royal blood, too, but still she went. Couldn’t get shot of me, though. I used to come see her on the nows and thens; she’d tell me to sling my hook. Wanted all that behind her, but with her new nose she stank to herself. Couldn’t shake birthright, you know. Blood’s thicker than water, and rat blood’s the thickest of all.’
    Somewhere in the tar-black below, a patrol car lurched out of the pound spewing blue light.
    ‘And since your mum got put in the ground, I’ve been keeping a little eye out for you: trying to keep you out of trouble. What’s family for, Saul? But it looks like things have caught up. Can’t outrun your blood, Saul. Looks like you’ve been rumbled, and your dad had to take a fall.’
    Saul sat still and gazed over King Rat’s shoulder. The words, the deadly understatement delivered with something like a flourish, unlocked a door inside him. He could see his father in a hundred images. And, like a backdrop to all the frozen moments he recalled, Saul could see a powerful fat body pitching in slow motion through the night air, the mouth a distended yawn of shock and terror, eyes rolling in frantic search for safety, thinning hair flickering like candlelight, jowls trembling with gravity’s sudden shift, paddling ineffectually with those thick limbs, jagged scintillas of glass whirling around him as he flew towards the dark lawn, its soil frost-hardened like tundra.
    Saul’s throat caught, and he let out a tiny sound of grief. His tears amazed him with their speed, flooding his vision instantly.
    ‘Oh Dad ...” he sobbed.
    King Rat was incensed.
    ‘Leave it out now, leave it out, will you give it a fucking rest?’
    His hand snapped out and he slapped Saul lightly across the face.
    ‘Hey. Hey. Fucking enough.’
    ‘Fuck off!’ Saul found a voice between sniffing, weeping and wiping his nose on the sleeve of the Page 23
     
    police-issue jumper. ‘Just stop for a minute. Just leave me alone ...’
    Saul relapsed into tears for his father. He beat himself on the head in his loneliness, screwed up his eyes as if he were being tortured, moaned rhythmically as he pummelled his forehead.
    ‘I’m sorry Dad I’m sorry I’m sorry ...” he crooned between his quiet cries. His words were garbled and confused in isolation and terrible inchoate anger. He wrapped his arms around his head, desperate and alone up on the roof.
    Through the gap between his arms, he saw that