or wrong. Frankly, Peterkinney thinks they could each learn something from the other.
They’re into the living room, sitting in familiar seats. Bowles always does it the same way. Every single time, no matter the job. Continuity.
‘There’s a pick-up tomorrow,’ Bowles is saying. Always speaks slowly. Always feels like he thinks you’re an idiot, the way he talks to you. Just his way. Keeps everything slow and simple, making sure there’s never a misunderstanding. Those are very dangerous. More dangerous than talking down to a tough guy. Besides, if he thought Peterkinney was stupid he wouldn’t have him working for him. ‘New fellow, a little twitchy. I’m not convinced by him, but he has good connections. I’m sure he can deliver the piece, but I worry. I want you to be cautious.’
‘Anything specific?’
‘No,’ Bowles is saying, shaking his head. ‘Just a feeling I got from him. I spoke to him on the telephone. He was unconvincing. Granted, as I said, he has the connections. He can get his hands on the piece. I have no doubt of that. He just didn’t sound reliable. I don’t like people who aren’t reliable.’
Peterkinney’s nodding. ‘Where’s the meet?’
‘Tomorrow at two. I have an address. It’s not residential. This is another problem I have with it. It’s an old garage, terribly rough area. Industrial, no housing. I suspect he wants to meet you outside.’
‘In the open?’
‘That’s what he suggested. Said he’d be waiting outside. I doubt this fellow has a key to get in. He’s down on his luck, as they say. As though luck is the reason he’s down. Desperate for the money, so I don’t doubt he’ll be there.’
Bowles researches people. Checks up on anyone he’s going to buy from. Makes sure that they meet his definition of reliable. Not like him to even consider someone he doesn’t fully trust. Having a piece to sell isn’t enough to persuade a man like Bowles. All those years avoiding detection, he won’t take a risk now. Yet this guy doesn’t sound reliable at all. Must have very good contacts. Probably ex-military. A lot of them are. Or maybe someone with connections across the water in Northern Ireland. He’s obviously convinced Bowles that he can deliver something worthwhile.
Bowles has gotten up to go and get the money, which means he has no intention of going into any further detail. If Peterkinney wants to work out why this guy’s unreliable, then it’s up to him to do so. Bowles wouldn’t tell him just because of a feeling, though. That’s not him. Feelings intrude very rarely. He must know something that leaves him so worried. Keeping it to himself, for now.
Back in with the cash. A thick wad of used notes in a small white envelope. Passing it carefully, almost respectfully, to Peterkinney. Watching Peterkinney slip it into the inside pocket of his coat. Always have a pocket with a zip when you come visit Bowles for a job. He’s going to give you money, and he’s going to demand that the money be put in a pocket with a zip. Demanded it on the first visit, made it clear that he expected Peterkinney to remember that demand.
‘His name’s Howard Lawson. Apparently everyone calls him Howie. He’s forty, skinny fellow, rather scraggly. Well, he should be the only one there, so you shouldn’t have trouble picking him out.’ A pause, thinking. ‘Any sign of trouble, get out of there, Oliver. If he’s not alone, leave, immediately. I specifically told him to be alone. He swore he would be. If you hear or see anything untoward, leave immediately. And of course, my name never comes up.’
That’s always the cue to leave. The reminder that his name never makes it into a conversation, even with the person you’re getting the gun from. It’s always the last words he wants in your ears when he sends you out the door.
But the words that came before are what Peterkinney remembers. Warning. But also, trusting. Trusting Peterkinney to make his own
They’re into the living room, sitting in familiar seats. Bowles always does it the same way. Every single time, no matter the job. Continuity.
‘There’s a pick-up tomorrow,’ Bowles is saying. Always speaks slowly. Always feels like he thinks you’re an idiot, the way he talks to you. Just his way. Keeps everything slow and simple, making sure there’s never a misunderstanding. Those are very dangerous. More dangerous than talking down to a tough guy. Besides, if he thought Peterkinney was stupid he wouldn’t have him working for him. ‘New fellow, a little twitchy. I’m not convinced by him, but he has good connections. I’m sure he can deliver the piece, but I worry. I want you to be cautious.’
‘Anything specific?’
‘No,’ Bowles is saying, shaking his head. ‘Just a feeling I got from him. I spoke to him on the telephone. He was unconvincing. Granted, as I said, he has the connections. He can get his hands on the piece. I have no doubt of that. He just didn’t sound reliable. I don’t like people who aren’t reliable.’
Peterkinney’s nodding. ‘Where’s the meet?’
‘Tomorrow at two. I have an address. It’s not residential. This is another problem I have with it. It’s an old garage, terribly rough area. Industrial, no housing. I suspect he wants to meet you outside.’
‘In the open?’
‘That’s what he suggested. Said he’d be waiting outside. I doubt this fellow has a key to get in. He’s down on his luck, as they say. As though luck is the reason he’s down. Desperate for the money, so I don’t doubt he’ll be there.’
Bowles researches people. Checks up on anyone he’s going to buy from. Makes sure that they meet his definition of reliable. Not like him to even consider someone he doesn’t fully trust. Having a piece to sell isn’t enough to persuade a man like Bowles. All those years avoiding detection, he won’t take a risk now. Yet this guy doesn’t sound reliable at all. Must have very good contacts. Probably ex-military. A lot of them are. Or maybe someone with connections across the water in Northern Ireland. He’s obviously convinced Bowles that he can deliver something worthwhile.
Bowles has gotten up to go and get the money, which means he has no intention of going into any further detail. If Peterkinney wants to work out why this guy’s unreliable, then it’s up to him to do so. Bowles wouldn’t tell him just because of a feeling, though. That’s not him. Feelings intrude very rarely. He must know something that leaves him so worried. Keeping it to himself, for now.
Back in with the cash. A thick wad of used notes in a small white envelope. Passing it carefully, almost respectfully, to Peterkinney. Watching Peterkinney slip it into the inside pocket of his coat. Always have a pocket with a zip when you come visit Bowles for a job. He’s going to give you money, and he’s going to demand that the money be put in a pocket with a zip. Demanded it on the first visit, made it clear that he expected Peterkinney to remember that demand.
‘His name’s Howard Lawson. Apparently everyone calls him Howie. He’s forty, skinny fellow, rather scraggly. Well, he should be the only one there, so you shouldn’t have trouble picking him out.’ A pause, thinking. ‘Any sign of trouble, get out of there, Oliver. If he’s not alone, leave, immediately. I specifically told him to be alone. He swore he would be. If you hear or see anything untoward, leave immediately. And of course, my name never comes up.’
That’s always the cue to leave. The reminder that his name never makes it into a conversation, even with the person you’re getting the gun from. It’s always the last words he wants in your ears when he sends you out the door.
But the words that came before are what Peterkinney remembers. Warning. But also, trusting. Trusting Peterkinney to make his own
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