PRESENT DAY
Over the years the ride became a little wilder, but it also became even more rewarding. It had gone through a really crazy patch this last year. Roberto di Matteo had thought about walking away. But then he’d more or less settled back into his old pattern. He liked the money he was making. And if anything, the work was a little easier. Which was OK…
That morning Roberto was playing golf on his computer, thinking vaguely about retirement, when his secretary buzzed through.
“Sir, I have a gentleman here who’s asking to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment, but he says Mr. Carrick sent him. Should I tell him to come back another day?”
Carrick. The guy was a weasel. That was for sure. But he did have a lot of useful contacts. “I have ten minutes, Gloria. Send him in if he thinks he can be quick.”
The man who appeared in Roberto’s office a minute later was wearing a gray suit. He had neat hair. But later that day, when Roberto thought back on their meeting, he struggled to recall any other details of the guy’s appearance.
“Hi. I’m Paul McDougall.” The guy held out his hand. “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice. Mr. Carrick sent me over. He has a problem, and he thought it was better not to discuss it on the phone. I hope you can help.”
“That depends. What kind of problem does Mr. Carrick have?”
“It’s a little embarrassing, actually. One of his guys has been arrested. Another one. Jonny Evans this time. It’s a similar situation to the Norman Davies case. A similar problem. And we’re looking for a similar solution.”
“Is it another assault?”
“It is. On another tenant, in the same building. A stabbing this time. Not fatal, fortunately. Evans was just supposed to scare some old guy. You know, wave his switchblade around, do a bit of yelling and screaming. But something went wrong. Evans got carried away, I guess. He did get out of there before the police and the paramedics arrived, but he panicked when he heard the sirens. He ditched the knife in a drain on the same block as the building, which wasn’t the smartest thing to do. Mr. Carrick sent someone to get it back, but it was too late. The police had already found it. And that’s a problem, because it’s covered with the victim’s blood and Evans’s prints.”
“It sounds like quite a mess. What are you looking for, exactly?”
“All we need is for the knife to disappear. There are no witnesses except the victim, and he’s old, senile, and scared.”
Roberto thought for a moment. He had the opportunity to charge a hefty premium here, he realized. He could argue that the risk was much greater, tampering with evidence so hard on the heels of the previous time. “OK, McDougall. I’ll handle it. I’ll just need the booking number from you. And you can tell Mr. Carrick, this has to be the last time.”
“I understand. And don’t worry. You can rest assured. You definitely won’t be hearing from Mr. Carrick again.”