A stormy night on the seamier side of Sheffield. McLean finds small-time burglar Andy Peters dead in his flat, his neck snapped like a twig. Then ex-con scrap metal dealer James Silvester escapes death by inches when an unknown gunman puts three bullets through the windscreen of his Mercedes.
Are the two incidents linked? McLean starts to ask questions, but is discouraged by Silvester’s formidable wife, Pinky, a professional wrestler with nineteen-inch biceps and a taste for blood and pink lycra leotards.
Undeterred, McLean presses on with his investigation, uncovering a sordid conspiracy in which international arms dealers, hitmen and the British security services are all implicated – and they will do everything they can to make sure their involvement is kept secret.