Cal leaned against the railing that ran along the raised walkway at the back of the loading bays while he waited for Denny to report back who the visitor was. At the depot, whoever was closest to the gate intercom was the one to answer and push the button that lifted the barrier. The rule was unwritten, but observed by all, McGrath and Johnny Boy included, but not Cal. Even if Cal was closer than someone he considered further down the ladder, he’d make a point of walking away from it when it buzzed.

Every outfit has a Denny—a guy who’s not especially capable but not useless, trusted but not a member of the inner cabal, only occasionally funny but always ready to laugh at the jokes of others. Sometimes, if everyone else’s schedules meant the depot would be empty, it would fall to Denny, in an unspoken, informal kind of way, to stay there, so cars could be left unlocked in the shade with their windows down. Denny had never had any doubt about his place in McGrath’s outfit. While that didn’t burn him up like it would a lot of folks, he did have his dreams, just like everyone, and one day he might well be taken seriously.

He rejoined Cal and they watched the Prius pull up in front of the loading bays. “Sounded like he was English or something.”

Spencer got out and tucked in his shirt, damp from sweat. He took off his shades, tossed them on the dash, and slammed the door—almost in one movement—and strode into the loading bays.

It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust. He made out half a dozen cars, mostly new, and a Ducati. It seemed the loading bays were used more for keeping their cars cool than for loading trucks. He saw Cal and Denny looking at him. Cal, the big crew cut in his suit, looked unfriendly.

I don’t care.

Denny, tall and lanky with a mop of dark, curly hair, had shoulders that seemed as if they’d been put on back to front. Either that or he’d left the hanger in his tough-guy denim jacket.

“Afternoon, guys.”

Neither responded.

I don’t care.

Spencer walked toward them.

“Here to see Dom?” He gave a slight emphasis to the shortened name.

“He don’t normally use Uber,” said Denny.

“Who wants him?” asked Cal.

Oh OK, so we’ve got the village idiot and a regular gangster.

Spencer kept on walking right to the back of the bay, just below the walkway on which Cal and Denny stood. He looked up at Cal.

“Spencer, Burnham. Here to see Dom. He and Johnny Boy asked me to come down.”