‘You wanna know what’s happening in the drug trade, go ask an addict.’
Fay crouched over the crumpled figure and pinched his cheek. ‘Rupert.’
The man slowly opened one reddened eye and then began furiously scratching his arms, as if he had fleas.
‘Piss off and leave me alone,’ Rupert demanded. ‘Bloody do-gooders.’
‘I’m not a do-gooder,’ Fay said firmly. ‘Where are your friends, Bob and Tony?’
The man was intrigued by this show of knowledge and squinted from the sun as he sat up slightly. ‘Bob was stabbed up and didn’t make it. Tony’s in prison.’
‘That’s a shame,’ Fay said. ‘You three were quite a team.’
‘No offence, but who the hell are you?’
‘You used to be friendly with my aunt Kirsten.’
‘Kirsten was a nice lady! She used to fix me up good.’
Fay pulled a twenty-pound note and Rupert reached for it.
‘No, no,’ Fay said, snatching it out of reach.
‘You’re the wee girl Kirsten had with her sometimes? How is your auntie?’
‘Dead,’ Fay said bluntly.
‘Ripping off dealers,’ Rupert said. ‘That’ll get anyone killed.’
‘I’ve got twenty pounds here,’ Fay said. ‘I’ll take you to the greasy spoon up by the railway arches. I’ll buy you something to eat and you can tell me all the best spots to buy heroin and cocaine. Is that a deal, Rupert?’
Rupert’s smile showed off missing front teeth. ‘Forget the food,’ he said. ‘Just give me thirty for my next two fixes and I’ll tell you all you need to know about Hagar and Eli.’
‘Eli?’ Fay said. ‘Who the hell is Eli?’
18. PHONE
‘Youssef,’ Ryan said. ‘What’s happening?’
Youssef was bulky and dark-skinned with a wispy beard. ‘You’re late,’ he said coldly, as he got off a wooden bench and started towards the entrance of Kentish Town Station.
‘Only five minutes,’ Ryan said. ‘I’m new in the neighbourhood, took a wrong turning.’
Youssef accepted this with a shrug. ‘There’s money to be made running stuff for Ali and that crew, but you gotta be punctual and fast.’
Ryan followed Youssef, blipping his Oyster card through the tube gates and down the escalator towards the platform.
‘We’re getting off at Tottenham Court Road,’ Youssef explained, as he discreetly passed over a roll of money. ‘That’s three hundred pounds. When we get out we’re gonna head towards Oxford Street. It’s three miles long and has about thirty mobile phone shops. Our job is to go into every shop along the way, and pick up one of the cheapest phones in each shop.’
‘Why not buy them all in one shop?’ Ryan asked, as they stepped off the escalator and moved on to the southbound platform.
‘Three minutes,’ Youssef said, as he looked up at the train arrivals board. He didn’t answer Ryan’s question until they’d moved to a quiet area at the end of the platform.
‘Mobile phones are convenient, but they’re also a drug dealer’s worst nightmare. Not only can the cops record every conversation, they can be used to triangulate your exact position. The only way to stay ahead of the cops is to never use a phone for more than three or four days.’
Ryan knew this already, but was keen to find out how deep Youssef’s knowledge was. ‘Why not just change the SIM card?’
Youssef shook his head. ‘Every phone has a built-in number called an IMEI. Even if you swap the SIM card, the cops can still trace the phone or block it if it gets stolen.’
‘So how often do the Hagars of this world change their numbers?’
‘I’ve heard that Hagar doesn’t carry a mobile,’ Youssef said. ‘If he wants something done, he’ll put it in the ear of a lieutenant. The lieutenant probably has to change his mobile every two or three days.’
‘Which is why we’re gonna buy the cheapest ones we can get,’ Ryan said.
‘You’re learning,’ Youssef answered. ‘And if you ever spot a dude stepping out of a sixty-grand car holding a twelve pound ninety-nine
Fay crouched over the crumpled figure and pinched his cheek. ‘Rupert.’
The man slowly opened one reddened eye and then began furiously scratching his arms, as if he had fleas.
‘Piss off and leave me alone,’ Rupert demanded. ‘Bloody do-gooders.’
‘I’m not a do-gooder,’ Fay said firmly. ‘Where are your friends, Bob and Tony?’
The man was intrigued by this show of knowledge and squinted from the sun as he sat up slightly. ‘Bob was stabbed up and didn’t make it. Tony’s in prison.’
‘That’s a shame,’ Fay said. ‘You three were quite a team.’
‘No offence, but who the hell are you?’
‘You used to be friendly with my aunt Kirsten.’
‘Kirsten was a nice lady! She used to fix me up good.’
Fay pulled a twenty-pound note and Rupert reached for it.
‘No, no,’ Fay said, snatching it out of reach.
‘You’re the wee girl Kirsten had with her sometimes? How is your auntie?’
‘Dead,’ Fay said bluntly.
‘Ripping off dealers,’ Rupert said. ‘That’ll get anyone killed.’
‘I’ve got twenty pounds here,’ Fay said. ‘I’ll take you to the greasy spoon up by the railway arches. I’ll buy you something to eat and you can tell me all the best spots to buy heroin and cocaine. Is that a deal, Rupert?’
Rupert’s smile showed off missing front teeth. ‘Forget the food,’ he said. ‘Just give me thirty for my next two fixes and I’ll tell you all you need to know about Hagar and Eli.’
‘Eli?’ Fay said. ‘Who the hell is Eli?’
18. PHONE
‘Youssef,’ Ryan said. ‘What’s happening?’
Youssef was bulky and dark-skinned with a wispy beard. ‘You’re late,’ he said coldly, as he got off a wooden bench and started towards the entrance of Kentish Town Station.
‘Only five minutes,’ Ryan said. ‘I’m new in the neighbourhood, took a wrong turning.’
Youssef accepted this with a shrug. ‘There’s money to be made running stuff for Ali and that crew, but you gotta be punctual and fast.’
Ryan followed Youssef, blipping his Oyster card through the tube gates and down the escalator towards the platform.
‘We’re getting off at Tottenham Court Road,’ Youssef explained, as he discreetly passed over a roll of money. ‘That’s three hundred pounds. When we get out we’re gonna head towards Oxford Street. It’s three miles long and has about thirty mobile phone shops. Our job is to go into every shop along the way, and pick up one of the cheapest phones in each shop.’
‘Why not buy them all in one shop?’ Ryan asked, as they stepped off the escalator and moved on to the southbound platform.
‘Three minutes,’ Youssef said, as he looked up at the train arrivals board. He didn’t answer Ryan’s question until they’d moved to a quiet area at the end of the platform.
‘Mobile phones are convenient, but they’re also a drug dealer’s worst nightmare. Not only can the cops record every conversation, they can be used to triangulate your exact position. The only way to stay ahead of the cops is to never use a phone for more than three or four days.’
Ryan knew this already, but was keen to find out how deep Youssef’s knowledge was. ‘Why not just change the SIM card?’
Youssef shook his head. ‘Every phone has a built-in number called an IMEI. Even if you swap the SIM card, the cops can still trace the phone or block it if it gets stolen.’
‘So how often do the Hagars of this world change their numbers?’
‘I’ve heard that Hagar doesn’t carry a mobile,’ Youssef said. ‘If he wants something done, he’ll put it in the ear of a lieutenant. The lieutenant probably has to change his mobile every two or three days.’
‘Which is why we’re gonna buy the cheapest ones we can get,’ Ryan said.
‘You’re learning,’ Youssef answered. ‘And if you ever spot a dude stepping out of a sixty-grand car holding a twelve pound ninety-nine
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