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scimitars. To prove the sharpness of the swords, he went up to a man in the crowd. Grasping hold of the man’s tie in one slashing movement, he cut it in two. The man’s face fell and the crowd stepped back uneasily. They all agreed it was sharp.
    ‘He’s going to fix the guy’s tie, isn’t he?’ I was nodding in Moses’ face as I asked.
    ‘No.’ Moses turned his mouth down and shook his head.
    ‘That tie is silk, Moses – you can’t let them go around destroying customers’ clothes. In case it hadn’t occurred to you, it’s bad for business.’ My tone of voice was getting higher. Grandad was coaching me to speak low and slow like Ingrid Bergman, but right now I was doing a fair impression of Betty Boop.
    ‘Do you really think I’d let someone as ugly as that in my club? Anything that happens in the queue will only be to punters that the bouncers won’t let in.’ Moses laughed, as if I was the one who had lost my marbles. The performance was hypnotic. The magician’s assistant had ignored the cold and was wearing a pink tutu. She looked like a malevolent Tinker Bell. It wouldn’t be fair to say that all eyes were on her colleague, because she was a beguiling sight. It was true that eyes, particularly male eyes, were on her, but they definitely weren’t watching the hands that were picking their pockets. It was just as well they wouldn’t miss their wallets until they tried to pay for the taxi home.
    ‘Here.’ Moses handed me a bottle of pills, which he’d just been given. I shuddered. The news that I was buying drugs would be all over the ‘steamie’; Moses’ reputation as the main supplier of ecstasy was well known. I wanted to rattle them and shout ‘angina pills’, but who would want to believe that?
    I’d seen enough. I was tired of the generic Christmas music that was pumping out of the open door of the club and, as usual, Moses’ addiction to crime disheartened me. ‘There’s no need for that petty theft,’ I told him. ‘You’re making enough from your legit businesses.’ I moved to put my helmet on.
    ‘How do you know what’s enough? Do you have any idea how much it’s cost me to put this place together?’ he said, shrugging his shoulders as if speaking to a child. ‘The fucking smoking ban has made it impossible to turn an honest buck.’ We were staring at the hapless smokers as they talked, huddled around an ineffective patio heater. ‘Even the brothels have been hit – has Kailash not told you?’ He looked into my face, expecting confirmation.
    ‘We don’t talk about her business,’ I said, tightening my lips to give him a warning look; sadly, subtlety is lost on Moses.
    ‘Illegal brothels are setting up everywhere,’ he said, as if hoping I’d be sympathetic. He was so wrong, but as usual couldn’t read my face, so continued. ‘They’re bringing in girls from Thailand, Poland, Romania. Sex slaves, Brodie – the bosses don’t pay them a penny!’
    ‘What do you want me to say? You want my sympathy? Is that it? All brothels are illegal in Scotland, Moses, not just the new ones – the fact that they get called saunas doesn’t give them any legitimacy.’ He looked at me blankly; morality wasn’t something he could understand.
    ‘You should take an interest, Brodie; after all it’s your inheritance. Well, yours and Connie’s. What have you got her for Christmas?’
    He wasn’t remotely interested in what I’d bought Connie for Christmas – which was just as well: he was too interested in his own gift. ‘I’ve imported the latest games console from Japan – it isn’t even out here till next autumn.’
    ‘Great. I hope it isn’t knocked off,’ I said churlishly. He tried to look hurt – and failed miserably. Moses was anxious for me to go, a sure sign he was up to something. I held my breath and watched where he was deliberately not looking. Then I spied them, just around the corner where a smaller queue had formed in front of Blind Bruce and a