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any more visits.”
    “We need to go to the police Wayne”
    “No way, I sort things out myself. You know what I think of that fucking lot. The day I talk to the filth will be the day I go to my fucking grave.”
    “Stop swearing Wayne, you know how it upsets me to hear you talk like that. Everything you get involved in these days frightens me. The way you’re carrying on you’ll end up in a grave. My dad is friendly with a really nice Policeman, Tom Lancaster I think his name is. Let’s go and see if he can help.”
    “Sue, leave it, Lancaster is the same as the rest. I’ve had run ins with him in the past and I don’t need no help okay. He’s the one who was bothering me at the hospital last night. Now leave it and don’t fucking talk to anyone about this or else.”
    “Or else what Wayne, you threatening me now are you, I can’t live like this.”
    “Calm down Sue, if either of us talks to the Old Bill I can guarantee those animals will be back quickly. That’s why they’re doing this, to scare the shit out of me. Get yourself back to the bakery, your job is important to us!”
    “So why can’t you get a proper job?”
    “I bring money in Sue, sometimes a load, other times not much, that’s the way it goes.”
    “It’s where it comes from that bothers me Wayne.”
    “Don’t stick your nose in Sue, what you don’t know can’t hurt you.”
    “What about this lorry driving job you’ve been doing, is that still ok?”
    “I don’t think they need me anymore, I’ll get something else, it was no fucking big deal anyway.”
    “I’m calling the Doctor to come and check you out Wayne.”
    “No Sue.” Evans tried to get off the sofa to stop her but gave up knowing deep down that he needed a Doctor to check him out and that a home visit and patient confidentiality should stop it going any further.
    Sue was in no fit state to return to work. After helping Wayne to bed she called Alan Bradwick to get the rest of the day off, waited for the Doctor and decided to get stuck into some serious housework to try and take her mind off the morning’s events.
    Evans had again been lucky, no permanent damage was the Doctor’s diagnosis. He decided to lay low for a few days. His thoughts revolved around how he could turn this situation round to his own advantage and come out on top, possibly rich and more importantly still alive.

CHAPTER 4
    “Thomas,” Tom cringed every time he heard DI Lowe call his name from the adjoining office. Tom got up from behind his desk, walked into the DI’s office and jovially retorted “You called guvnor.” He knew that Barry Lowe hated being referred to as ‘guvnor’. Lowe felt it was a crude and uneducated term but knew better than to take Tom to task over it.
    “The Superintendent wants to see you up in his office Tom.”
    “What have I done now?” chuckled Tom.
    “I think it’s something to do with someone he knows at Brampton Golf Club, but I don’t know exactly what it’s about.”
    Tom sighed. “Okay, I’ll go and see his lordship now, perhaps someone from his Lodge has lost a fucking golf ball.” He got no reaction from the comment, but then again didn’t expect one.
    He walked out of the CID office and up the corridor to the Superintendent’s office. The entrance was via his secretary’s small but tidy office. Anne, a plump lady of about 45, had been the Superintendent’s secretary at Brampton for the past 15 years and had seen four different Superintendents come and go in that time. The current Superintendent, Alan Davies, was a very popular man with his subordinates. He had 27 years service, a majority of which were in CID and had a great deal of front line experience. For this reason Tom considered him a rare commodity in today’s police service. Tom had considerable respect for him as an experienced, approachable and hard working ‘copper’.
    “Morning Anne, is God in?” quipped Tom.
    “Hi Tom, yes he’s expecting you. He’s on the phone at