Chapter Twenty Nine

 

A few days earlier, Busy Mick and Slow Jack had been casually chatting during a routine business meeting.

‘You know, Mick, I’ve been wondering if it might be time for us to move out of Club Sadist. We’ve had our money out of it, it’s been very good money, but I suspect that the bizzies are getting a bit closer than we might think. That dickhead Cedric’s turned out to be a liability, and if he’s not careful he might just lead them to the Club one evening.

‘Funny you should say that Jack. I’ve been feeling the same thing. Cedric is the biggest disappointment, but, then, we always knew that it wouldn’t last for ever. The secret of success is to know when to quit, and that’s my impression now. Who do we sell it to, though, and for how much?’

‘My answer is in Ace. He’s sharp, he’s got rich over the years with not just our club but other interests, and he’s got some available cash or assets that he can materialise. I think that half a mill in cash would be sufficient to make me walk away, the same for you.’

‘Sounds good to me. Give him a bell.’

Mick used one of his throwaway phones. ‘Hello, Ace, Jack and me’re having a meet, and we have proposition for you. How’d you fancy stop being manager and become owner?’ He paused to listen. ‘A mill. In cash, half each for Jack and me. Why? Because we feel that it’s time to retire from this particular enterprise, and carry on with something else. Let’s face it, we’ve got a lot of irons in a lot of fires. Okay, two bags before the next Club evening.’ He paused. ‘No thanks, we’ll not hang around. Cedric’s a waste of space, he’s bound to cry, and I can’t stand the prospect. See you then.’