Stutely didn't notice what Much was about straightaway, because he was busy trying to manoeuvre his own hand free, a task made more difficult when he copped a faceful of shoulder, squashing his cheek further against the net.
Somebody had laid this trap. Here, in the arse-end of nowhere, where nobody ought to know they were searching, somebody had managed to snare them, and before Stutely could follow that thought back to its logical conclusion, he was interrupted by the tinny sound of a camera shutter. "You little shit!" he growled and made a blind grab for Much's arm, succeeding only in causing the net to sway drunkenly. "Tan your fucking hide, I will!"