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It turns out the wanted man isn't home, but the mother of the 19-year-old is, and she's genuinely unhappy about the company her daughter is keeping.

After a polite enough search (bounty hunters rarely take anyone by their word, they seem immune to any entreaty of innocence), the team leave having made sure that the mother knows how to get in touch should the age-gap boyfriend reappear.

"This is part of what needs to be done," says Fred. "Layin' out trails of information so that when a certain someone has an argument with the suspect, or gets on someone's nerves, then that person jus' calls us up.

"We also offer rewards from the insurance companies who pay our fees and are ultimately liable for the bail money - they don't mind us using few hundred to shake somebody loose."

All this means that so far it's been a lot of legwork and not much to show for it. The nature of their business means that bounty hunters need to be working many cases at once - if they don't get their man, they don't get paid - so a network of informants and an ear to the street are what really gets results.

"We're from the streets," says Fred, indicating his brother with a lazy wave. "It helps to know how everything works. It's also helped me to develop a sense for when people are lyin' to me.

"The way they say something can be enough, the look in their eye, the way they hold themselves - you can usually tell if the suspect is in the house or not just by the way someone answers the door."

We move on. The good humour zaps on and off like a flickering neon sign - these guys can focus on aggression and then back out of that zone again quickly, unlike me, who sits fizzing in the back seat. They still won't give me a gun.

"I like this, I really like this... might have to get me on of these," says Fred from the driving seat. "No matter how quick Donny drives, give me one second and this beast is up and huggin'm, no problem."

He certainly seems to be working the 420bhp, 420lb ft, 6.1-litre Hemi V8 under the bonnet, switching back and forth through the traffic on the way to our next appointment at close to 120mph.

The speed is necessary; there's been a tip-off that a wanted man is currently at his mother's house. He has been ratted on by an informant - his, er, own mother - and we need to get there before he pops off into the scenery again.

On the way we pick up one of a rare breed - a female bounty hunter. "Female 'hunters are useful because we use 'em to rile up girlfriends and wives, and get into places we can't," says Fred. "Get a wife think their man is cheatin' and she'll tell us where he is."

Ronita certainly doesn't look like she's about to beat anyone up - but I'm learning not to judge by appearances. I may be big, but round here it just makes you a bigger target. Fred explains that meat-heads are not always the answer to a bounty-hunting problem.