Sowerbutt's Trench

Spaghetti swung his pickaxe in the four-foot deep trench in a side-street running east from West Ferry Road. Dressed in an old tweed suit, he looked the part of a council worker. He, Spano, one of his cousins, and Cocker had been there a couple of days, digging, filling in, watching and enjoying tea breaks in the corrugated shed. Across the road in one of the Family’s terraces, One-Line and Panda kept watch behind the lace curtains. One-Line’s Webley revolver was in his holster; Panda’s shotgun rested against the wall, his bike chain coiled in a canvas bag. Spaghetti had chosen the site carefully. From the trench, they could watch the open loading bay of Shapiro’s new warehouse. 

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Smoke-London-Sowerbutt-Novels-ebook-x/dp/B00RYR8BWG