Yeah, that’s right, amigo. Pack up and leave me to rot.

Calm down. I called Tommy, didn’t I? Wheels are in motion. Now piss off and let me think.

You think too much. You need to get out of your head and into the real world.

Irony. Must be.

So I sit on the bench, reining in my aura, trying to look like a member of the community and not an ex-army doorman sent to rip off a steroid lab. I chew my burrito awhile and grudgingly admit that Faber and Goran had a sweet deal figured.

Back in Cloisters, Faber got a little teary spelling it out.

‘As an attorney in the city, I represent a lot of drug people. I get to know them, they fill me in on every detail of their operation, and armed with this information, I get them off most of the time.’

I remember making myself pay attention, even though half my brain cells were fried from the anklet jolt and the rest were threatening to break apart and liquefy.

‘So a year goes by, maybe eighteen months, these guys have forgotten all about their natty attorney, when one of their labs gets busted by the cops. First through the door is my dead friend, Detective Goran, followed closely by a few of my own humps all rigged out in DEA armour and helmets. They secure the bad guys, load the drugs into the van and that’s all she wrote. Our fake police squad drives away, leaving the ripped-off drug merchants hog-tied with PlastiCuffs. Sometimes we load a couple in the van for show, then toss ’em a few blocks later.’

He leaned back on his heels, waiting for me to think it through, appreciate his genius. Which I did.

‘So the theft is never reported.’

‘What are they gonna say? Is that the police? I’d like to report that you people stole my drugs? Don’t think so.’

‘And you got a buyer?’

‘I represent a lot of drug guys. They figure I’m brokering for another client.’

That was pretty good, so I said: ‘That’s pretty goddamn good, Jaryd.’

Faber couldn’t help preening. ‘Why thank you, Daniel.’

‘But now you’re screwed because your pet detective is dead.’

Pet detective, says GZ. Nice.

‘And I’m guessing Goran wasn’t stupid enough to let you keep the riot gear.’

‘Correct. Goran headed up operations in the field; I did the planning.’

‘It’s a good plan. Sweet, the kids might say.’

‘Again, thank you. But much as I appreciate your appreciation, I need more than that before I let you go after my package.’

In Ireland, going after a guy’s package means grabbing him by the balls. I think Faber is talking about his drugs again.

‘You read my file?’

‘No. Any good bits?’

‘I have a special skill set.’

‘Any of those skills relevant?’