In Birmingham, the atmosphere was gloomy, the smell of factory smoke and cigarettes, the sounds of people fucking, the smell of skin on skin, the streets, maybe some killing and stealing, maybe some working, Or some at The Garrison Bar. The leader of the Peaky Blinders, Thomas Shelby, walked silently down the middle of the street, his black coat running behind him like a shadow, his cigarette in his mouth as smoke slowly escaped from between his lips. A carriage stopped next to one of the houses, and Thomas stopped walking, watching silently as his fingers held his cigarette.