Stephen Shirres (@The_Red_Fleece) flew the highest this week and takes his third win!
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“Tell me.” My client resumes his seat. His drink already in his hand. “Do people like you, have rules they live by?”
“When was the last time you met a thief who followed the rules?”
He swirls the remains of his whiskey around the offensive ice cube. “I mean codes of honour.”
“The Robin Hood style crap? Only the bad ones.” I check my watch, hoping he’ll get the hint.
“Pity.” He takes a sip. “I always saw something romantic in it.” The rich clients always say that. Probably helps smooth their souls after they pay you to steal something which will ruin God knows how many lives. They’ll call it something else, borrow, expropriate, transfer, but it all means the same thing. If you ain’t handing it out, you are receiving it. Brutally but true.
His drink, empty, returns to the table for the last time. I count down from five and get to three.
“Here.” From his suit jacket, he hands me an envelope. “Everything’s in there apart from the payment. I swap that for the files.”
“Always fifty per cent up front.”
“Not with me.” He flashes his teeth as if he is a Rottweiler. They’re fake, he’d barely beat a chihuahua with those.
“You sure?” I offer him a final out. Always be polite as mother used to say.
I pick up the envelope and walk out. The conversation is clearly over. Brushing past his jacket, I take his credit card as well.