He had just been released from prison and was on parole after doing a stretch for burglary.
He wasn’t going back. Some of the older jailbirds seem to do time OK, but he didn’t. He’d had enough! He was still young enough to put it all behind him. His parole officer had found him work a in a building supplier’s warehouse, the pay wasn’t much, but it would get him back on his feet. They had agreed, as part of his rehabilitation that he should have as little as possible to do with the criminal fraternity that he had grown up with. This agreement applied in particular to his brother-in-law, a prominent member of the underworld. It was him that had got him started down the road of crime.
That evening he would go out and celebrate his freedom. After a long, hot shower at his mum’s, he put on a suit that had been waiting for him. When he arrived at his local, several of his old mates were there, wanting to welcome him back. The evening went really well and the beer flowed freely. He was completely drunk when, just before closing time, his brother-in-law showed up.
He pulled him to one side and whispered, “I’ve got a little job for you. Nice little earner. No risk. Right up your street, it is…”