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The only risk is when you actually take the car away, and the way you look you'd probably be able to claim it was a first offence and that all you were doing was taking it for a joyride, officer, and you're very sorry but it won't happen again, your honour, because you're the product of a broken home and an uncaring Government and you'll get nothing worse than a few months' probation.
    'But underneath that ludicrous purple hair I reckon there's a brain a bit too smart to be caught red-handed. Am I right?'
    He looked up and smiled, showing crooked teeth. 'Maybe. Maybe you are. But I still don't know what you want from me.'
    'You asked me what your operation is, Dinah. Well, I think you're making a nice living selling bits of cars that would cost an arm and a leg if you bought them honestly. Luxury cars, the Rollers, the Mercs, the Porsches, cars where you're talking three figures for a spare wheel and four for an engine.
    'You supply a need, Dinah, like all good entrepreneurs. You sell parts, no questions asked, to cut-price mechanics. They get the spares they need, you get a roll of fivers in your back pocket. Everyone's happy, the only loser is the guy whose car you've knicked and he'll be able to claim on his insurance.
    'The beauty of the scheme is that once you've taken the cars apart all the evidence is gone, it's virtually impossible to trace things like axles, body panels, windscreens and lights. And once you've changed the numbers, selling an engine is no problem. I like it, Dinah, I like it a lot. If a business like yours qualified for the Business Expansion 35 Scheme, you'd have investors queuing up halfway round the block.'
    'I haven't stolen a car from you, have 1?' asked Dinah, realization breaking across his face like an early dawn.
    'No, Dinah, you haven't.'
    'Thank God for that. That's been a nightmare of mine for years, that one day somebody will tap me on the shoul- der and ask for their motor back before plastering me all over the wall. There's some very dodgy people driving Rollers, you know?'
    'You don't have to tell me, Dinah. Now listen. I want you to steal a car for me. Two cars to be precise, a Merc and a Rolls.'
    'No sooner done than said. Any particular colour?'
    'Not just a particular colour, I want two particular cars. And I don't want to keep them.' His eyes brightened. 'And I don't want you to strip them, either, so you can forget any thoughts you had on that score. I want to borrow them and return them so that no one is any the wiser.'
    'You planning a robbery or something? If you are you can count me out. I'll steal cars, sure, but that's as far as Igo.'
    Villains are like that, each to their own. They specialize and are usually reluctant to operate in territory they're unfamiliar with. They might progress upwards through the criminal hierarchy, acquiring new skills, but at no point would a safeblower get involved with a fraudster, or vice versa. Dinah would no more consider taking part in a robbery, no matter how far removed he was, than a solicitor would think about extracting a tooth.
    'No, Dinah, I'm not planning a robbery, but I'm not prepared to tell you why I need the motors. What I am prepared to do is to offer you a thousand a car, half in advance. Then, when I'm ready, I want you to break into the Rolls and wire it so that I can drive it. I'll use it for a couple of days and then I want it put back in perfect condi 36 lion. The Merc's a different matter. All I want you to do there is to open the boot and relock it. That's all you have to do, Dinah, and I'll pay you two grand.'
    'Mine's a pint, and you're on.'
    I got Dinah his pint from the bar and stood it in front of him along with the half-inch thick brown envelope I'd been carrying in my inside pocket.
    'One other thing, Dinah. This buys your silence as well. Don't let your two pals in on the act, no subcontracting. I'm paying for you. And I want a telephone number where I can reach you. The job will be at short notice, very short