towel on their heads. They probably went round intimidating young Muslim men, trying to turn them into sources in the mosques.
'It has its moments,' I said. 'So, what the fuck are you after?'
Sundance lifted the steaming coffee from the machine and presented it to me. 'The boss wants to see you at the office.'
I took the plastic rim with my thumb and forefinger, but I'd gone off the idea. In fact, I suddenly felt sicker than I had when I came into this fucking place. 'When?'
'Eight thirty tonight.' He reached into his jacket and pulled out a white envelope. 'Here.' He slapped it against my chest. The end had been ripped open and I could see cash.
'It's for being a good boy and agreeing to see the boss. Extension two seven double eight. There's a taxi waiting outside. It'll take you to Harley Street and get that arm of yours sorted.' Sundance pushed his fist harder into me. 'You'll die waiting for these fuckers to take a look at you, and you've got an appointment this evening.'
I took the envelope and he backed off.
'See you later, boy.'
'Don't hold your breath. There's somewhere I've got to go first.'
Sundance's head leapt towards mine. His face was just inches away. 'The boss said half eight, so be there.'
It would have been stupid to get big-time with those two, but I was sorely tempted.
He shifted so his eyes drilled into mine. 'If you're one second late we'll be seeing you again, only without the smile. You understand, boy?'
Yes, I knew exactly what he meant. 'What's he want to see me for?'
He pointed to the screen. The tribute to Pete was coming to an end. 'To do with that pal of yours.'
They lumbered off down the corridor, thighs rubbing against each other. I didn't breathe again until the two brick shithouses had disappeared through the door.
I opened the envelope and counted eight hundred pounds in fifties. The Harley Street address was written on the back. The wad had started out as a grand, for sure. They'd deducted a few expenses. I headed outside. The cab could take me to Pete's – or, rather, Tallulah and Ruby's – instead. I'd have to get my arse in gear if I was going to make it to the Yes Man on time.
I usually got dragged in because they had a job no one else in their right mind would take. But I'd have put good money on that not being the case today. I would be there on time, and for reasons that had nothing to do with those two reading me my horoscope.
26
It was about four miles dead south from the hospital, a journey that would have taken ten minutes in the middle of the night. I'd been sitting in the cab for the best part of half an hour, and we probably had another mile to go. I had to be back up with the Yes Man at Vauxhall in an hour and a half, and I didn't want to be late. My arm hurt enough as it was.
I leant forward to the dividing window. 'Mate, can you wait when we get there? I'll be half-hour, max.'
'No problem for me, son. It's your clock.'
One of the Firm's alias-business-cover accounts would be picking up the tab. There were hundreds of ABCs dotted round the world. They financed operations, provided cover jobs, and generally acted as conduits for cash the Firm needed to move into various foreign pockets. ABCs spared government ever having to know what was done in its name. Politicians like to hear about results, not how the Firm achieves them.
The area hadn't changed much, apart from a one-way system and traffic-lights every few yards. We headed round the edge of the park and turned into Croxted Road. Pete was definitely local-boy-done-good. The Victorian three-storey terraced houses came complete with bay windows and shiny door brasses and must have been going for at least half a million.
'Just drop us here, mate. There's a parking spot to the right.'
I got out and took a couple of big breaths. I wanted to be sure I said the right thing. These people were grieving. I couldn't fuck up.
I hit the doorbell.
A few seconds later there was a voice the other side. 'Is that you, Nick?'
I'd called earlier to check she was in.
The door opened. Tallulah was tall, a good foot taller than Pete. She was wearing a baggy red jumper. Her feet were bare. The shock of long, wavy,