Blue Genes - By Val McDermid Page 0,79

painless as possible, but it's got to be done."

Gizmo breathed out heavily through his nose. "Fuck it, who do you think you are? I've managed to avoid that kind of shit working for Telecom, why should I do it for you?"

"Telecom has just fired you, Giz. Maybe corporate image had something to do with it, maybe not. Bottom line is, Telecom was a necessary evil for you. Working for me is going to be fun, and you know it. So get the haircut, get the suit."

He scowled like a small boy who's been told to wash behind his ears. "Yeah, well," he growled, scuffing his heels on the floor. "You drive a hard bargain."

I smiled sweetly. "You'll thank me for it one day. Let me know when you want to shop till you drop."

I walked downstairs alone, leaving Gizmo staring at a screen. I still didn't know where the money was going to come from to buy Bill out. But at least I was starting to feel as if it might be possible for the agency to earn enough to pay it back.

Rasul and Lal's sandwich bar is one of Manchester's best-kept secrets. Nestled under the railway arches at the trendy rather than the glossy end of Deansgate, it pro¬duces some of the best snacks in town. They like to name sandwiches after their regular customers, and I'm proud to reveal there's a Brannigan Butty up there on the board- tuna and spring onion in mayo with black olives and tomatoes in crusty French bread. Strictly speaking, it's a takeaway, but in the room behind the shop, some of us get to perch and munch. I'm not sure of the criteria Rasul and Lal apply for admission to the back shop, but I've found myself sharing the privileged space with doctors, lawyers, Equal Opportunities Commission executives, and TV technicians. The one thing we all have in common is that we're refugees, hiding from our lives for as long as it takes to scoff a sandwich and swallow a coffee.

When I arrived in the back shop the following morn¬ing, Delia was already there. She'd opted for an egg may¬onnaise sandwich. I was feeling less traditional, going for a paratha with a spicy omelet on top. There was no one else around apart from the brothers. There seldom is then, which was why I'd chosen it for our meeting. This was one time I absolutely didn't want to be seen publicly with Delia.

We gave each other as much of a hug and kiss as our breakfasts would allow. She looked as if she'd had more sleep than I had, her skin glowing, her green eyes clear, copper hair pulled back into the kind of chignon that never stayed neat for more than five minutes on me when I had the hair for it. On Delia, there wasn't a stray hair to be seen. I couldn't quite work out why, but Delia was get¬ting better-looking with every passing year. Maybe it had something to do with cheekbones her whole body seemed to hang from. If she wasn't my friend, I could hate her. "Mysterious morning call," she remarked as we cozied up in the corner between the fridge and the back door.

"You'll understand why when I tell you what I've got for you."

"Goodies?" she inquired enthusiastically.

"Not so's you'd notice." I bit into my sandwich. Any¬thing to postpone the moment when I delivered the bad news.

Realizing I needed to work up to this one, Delia said, "We lifted your headstone con artists yesterday morning before their eyes were open. We'd fixed up an ID parade with some of the names you gave us, and we got enough positive identification to persuade them that they might as well put their hands up and admit to the lot. Turns out they'd pulled the same routine in Birmingham and Ply¬mouth before they turned up here. Nice work, Kate."

"Thanks. By the way, on the subject of those two, some¬thing occurred to me, which you've probably thought of already."

"Mmm?"

"I was thinking about the business they're in. Mobile phones. I just wondered how straight the company is that they're working for. Given how many ways there are to make an illegal buck out of mobies, and given that this pair are as cool as Ben and Jerry's in the way they operate, I wondered if it might be worth a poke about at Sell Phones."

"You know, that might not be such a bad idea. I was so busy with my