López was still watching him; surely he knew what had happened in Manchester?

“It’s as I said,” López said. “We have an existing arrangement.”

“I was hoping you might be persuaded to reconsider. I won’t step on his toes. He won’t even know that I’m there.”

“And if he did know? How do you think he would react to that?”

“I’m a big boy,” Milton said. “I can look after myself.”

López exhaled. “I really think that might be more trouble than it is worth.”

“How can you say that?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I haven’t told you what it might be worth.”

López smiled. “True. I suppose not.” He flicked his fingers. “Fine, go on—indulge me.”

“A million dollars. Twenty-five per key, for forty keys.”

“Forty? Really?”

Milton held his eye. “Surely that’s not more than you can handle?”

López snorted disdainfully. “The weight is not a problem.” He leaned back against the upholstered back of the seat and crossed his arms.

“So?” Milton pressed. “What is?”

“You know the problem, señor.”

Milton leaned back. “That’s for you to consider. The offer is there. My money is as good as his.”

López paused, then gave a nod. “Let me think about it.”

“Fine,” Milton said. “I can live with that.” He knew not to outstay his welcome, and stood. “Thank you.”

López remained seated. He smiled again and pointed a finger in Milton’s direction. “You are tenacious, Señor Smith. I hope you understand how seriously my employees and I take our business. I would counsel strongly against wasting my time.”

“Was there anything wrong with my money?”

López shook his head.

“I paid quickly.”

“You did.”

“And I didn’t negotiate.”

“That’s not necessarily a reason for pride. Perhaps it suggests that you are a bad businessman.”

Milton shook his head. “I didn’t want to show you any disrespect. You didn’t know me. You still don’t. And I appreciate the fact that you said yes.”

“Saying yes to our first transaction was a lot easier than saying yes to what you are proposing now.”

“I know that. And I know you have to check me out. It’s fine. I’m not offended—I’d do the same. But I’m not wasting your time.”

“So you say.” López dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “We will contact you.”

“When?”

“Soon. Stay in Amsterdam. Goodbye, Señor Smith.”

* * *

Milton left the club. He paused outside, looking first at the long line of impatient revellers before pretending to flick through his phone, using the opportunity to glance out into the darkness of the park that was opposite the building. There was a dirty-looking tramp on the park bench opposite the club, laid out flat and seemingly asleep. Milton ignored him and walked away, calling an Uber.