his face and the smart remark on his lips quickly dying as Sally Cartwright charged up to him and, not bothering with the technical rules of the game Delaney had once played, tackled him high, wrapping her arm round his neck and pulling him violently to the ground. At Twickenham she might have got a yellow card, in South Hampstead she got a shout of encouragement from the two uniformed officers who followed closely behind and grabbed the man, pulled him roughly to his feet and cuffed him.
Delaney took a moment or two to catch his breath, his face like a satisfied shepherd's sunset.
'You all right, boss?'
Delaney got to his knees, his right arm dangling uselessly by his side, and looked up at Sally, who was grinning a little too broadly for his liking, and gasped hoarsely. 'I wore him out for you.'
'Course you did, sir.'
Delaney stood fully up, dusted the wet leaves from his trousers with his good hand and walked over to where the tackled man was watching him, amused.
'I take it you don't play for the London Irish, Delaney?'
'I play on the only team that counts, you little shite.'
The man winked at Sally and indicated Delaney. 'You get to an age and suddenly you can't perform, if you know what I mean.'
Sally smiled back. 'Oh yeah, and how's your performance been of late?'
'I've had no complaints, darling.'
Sally pretended to be surprised. 'Really? Only an elderly nurse we were talking to earlier said you could only manage to fly the flag at half mast this morning.'
The guy looked over at Delaney. 'What's she on about?'
Sally turned to her boss. 'Do you know him then, sir?'
Delaney nodded. 'This here is Andy Ware. Aka Chemical Andy. Small-time drugs dealer, full-time pain in the arse. The last time I saw him he had a skinhead haircut. Peroxide blond.'
'Yeah, well, you got to move with the times, haven't you? I do a lot of business with the brothers nowadays . . .' Correcting himself. '
Sally looked him up and down, unimpressed. 'What's up then, Chemical? Couldn't you get hold of any Viagra? Or was it just too cold for you this morning?'
'The fuck are you talking about, woman?'
Sally gestured towards his groin. 'The little man, flashing it on the heath this morning, were you?'
'I haven't been flashing anything.' He swirled his hips. 'And let me tell you, there ain't nothing little about this baby.'
'What are you doing here, Andy?' Delaney cut him short.
'I live here. Last I knew that ain't a crime.'
'You caught the train just after eight this morning. What have you been doing all day?'
'Working. Like I say, I'm out of the life.'
'Working at what? Somehow I can't see you as an estate agent.'
'Like I give a fuck what you see me as.'
Delaney leaned in. 'We can do this down the nick if you prefer it?'
The man shrugged. 'Community service.'
