Chapter 5

 

The sun was no compensation for the unsociable hour as Jimmy traipsed into the Tyrell Corporation for the meeting. While he didn’t object to the veneer of respectability that a proper company front offered his employers, it was entirely unfair that he had to keep the same hours as civilians. If he had been capable of enduring the nine to five, he would have a regular job. It’d be far safer - and more boring, admittedly. At least his suit didn’t look out of place. He’d dress down if he had to, but a smart suit was one of the few vices he allowed himself. Though he settled for a cheaper one when expecting trouble.

He needed a visitor’s pass. Deniability required that he be an outside contractor, in case any of the more questionable stuff he did on behalf of the corporation came to light. They’d set up his agency and provided an accountant to deal with the mundanities. He’d made his own checks to ensure the setup didn’t leave him liable, not that it really mattered. If anything went wrong, they’d likely just have him killed, so there was no point in worrying about them ripping him off or stitching him up in the process.

He only had to sit for a few minutes outside Giovanni’s office.

Risk Assessment Executive was Giovanni’s official title. Whether he actually did any of that, Jimmy had no idea. In reality, Mark Giovanni was a liaison between the higher ups of the family - officially executives within the corporation - and those who ran the operations on the street. It was a useful structure for isolating the bosses from the illegal stuff, though would be more effective if the law didn’t know who ran what. Still, it kept the well-paid lawyers from getting too anxious.

Jimmy, being a freelancer, only got to see Giovanni, though he was presentable enough that they let him visit the office, unlike most of the rabble.

Giovanni offered an abrupt nod when Jimmy was allowed in. His steady gaze reinforced the dominance asserted by the wait. No time was wasted on small talk.

The office was standard executive chic. Little personalisation, as the corporation discouraged mixing business with home life. The desk and chairs looked relatively expensive, and a couple of abstract prints adorned the walls to avoid too stern an impression.

Giovanni’s wardrobe was professional, the suit probably costing more than Jimmy would spend on an actual wardrobe.

‘How’d the job go?’ asked Giovanni.

‘Messy,’ said Jimmy. ‘Couldn’t be helped.’

Giovanni showed little concern. He was confident in his isolation.

‘No useful evidence of what they do,’ said Jimmy. That elicited a frown. ‘Whatever they do there, it’s not drugs or anything obvious.’

The frown was joined by pursed lips at talking directly about illegal stuff. No matter how often he swept the office for bugs, he preferred euphemisms. ‘None of their goods on the premises?’

‘Nothing that looked technical. They had a secure room with some stuff in cases. Didn’t look like they belonged, but I’m having them checked out.’ The corporation’s Carver Labs affiliate would carry out the checks, as was standard protocol. Giovanni wouldn’t want the place named aloud.

‘Nothing like we’d been told?’ asked Giovanni. He didn’t like when things weren’t as expected. The unexpected interfered with business.

‘Nothing to say they’re a rival,’ said Jimmy. ‘I’ll keep digging until I have a fuller picture. But I think we should look into our source.’ The gun might be an indication of what Mayweather did. One that’d require substantiating. He had no evidence that shot hadn’t been a freak occurrence, or his mind playing tricks, so he wouldn’t report anything yet. Best to wait for the lab results.

‘The source might be a problem,’ said Giovanni. ‘The tip came from Carl Minetti. You know him?’

‘Vaguely.’ Hardly the sharpest tool in the shop, but not prone to excitement or paranoia. They required a creativity that Minetti had never exhibited.

‘He and a friend were killed last night. Shot near their turf. I’d assumed it was just business. But now...’

‘The timing certainly seems convenient.’

‘You didn’t tell anyone else you were going in last night?’ asked Giovanni.

‘No,’ said Jimmy. The job hadn’t required support.

‘And I didn’t know which night you would go in,’ said Giovanni.

Not specifically, perhaps, but he could guess. That’d be Jimmy’s suspicious nature asserting itself. ‘Timing might be a coincidence.’ Not that either of them believed in coincidence.

Giovanni nodded. ‘Or someone covering the trail after Minetti had served his purpose.’

‘I’ll look into Minetti’s activities, see if I can work out who he spoke to in the past few days.’

Giovanni nodded, gazing down in distraction. ‘Keep on Mayweather, too. See how they react.’

Jimmy nodded. He had every intention of doing so, anyway. It was what they paid him for. At least this job seemed to be getting interesting. A nice change from hunting snitches, or determining who was skimming more than their due.