“You’re going to fit in here. Everyone’s still laughing at the bitch-slapping you gave Cal’s Porsche. But I want you to be aware of something.” He nodded at the map behind him. “Where we are, our operations, it’s a different world than what you’re used to, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Spencer didn’t mind, because he wanted a piece of whatever McGrath fed from. It couldn’t be worse, morally, than a day at the office for one of those bankers, just like Ron-at-the-Bank.

“Some things we’re going to ask you to do might seem strange, even pointless. Remember, though, I may like you, but you work for me now. I say run, you run. I say make sure of something, then you make goddamn sure. You make a little mistake, pick something up and give it to the wrong guy, or you miss some punk or cop on your tail, then you’re gonna cost me. Most times you aren’t even gonna be doing anything much wrong: carrying money the IRS is wanting a chunk of, say, but you’re a businessman. I don’t have to tell you how hard they can come down on the ass of a working man.”

He didn’t.

“I know you got an agenda, Spencer. Debts, you like a drink, maybe more?” He laughed then at Spencer. “What? You think the guys who work here are angels? Come on!”

Spencer relaxed, felt less judged.

“Say, do people call you Spence?”

“Sometimes.”

The almost constant hint of a smile suddenly vanished. “In the army, Spence, we had a lot of horseplay, did some naughty shit. But my guys still did their job. When you’re at war, and there’s one weak link in a squad, he gets the whole squad killed. You follow me?”

And not for one moment did Spencer suspect that being a weak link was what had brought him there.

Spencer returned to the loading bays to find Denny half-inside the trunk of his car. He’d already pulled out one of the speaker units, leaving its casement empty, and was in flagrante on the second.

Spencer yanked him back by the shoulder. “Hey, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Whoa, cowboy, easy!” said Denny.

“This isn’t your car to get all bent out of shape about.”

Spencer spun round to see Johnny Boy. “Denny’ll seal up the boxes so they look nice, but I’m afraid if you want music you’re going to have to make do with the front speakers.”

Denny went back to work.

“Your work phone?” said Johnny Boy.

Spencer fished it out and handed it over.