Donald Summers sat in the back room of the pub, watching the bare knuckle boxing match on a small black and white monitor. A self-made millionaire, he'd bet a cool £1 million on Alec Crufts. How he'd longed to get one over on his business rival, Gordon Bayleaf.
And now, with the earpiece he'd given to Crufts to convey his commands, he was quids in.
The fourth round. Crufts was taking a beating, just as he'd instructed.
"Go down on the next punch" Summers whispered.
But Crufts didn't. He rebelled. And cost Summers a million notes in the process.