The call came in about ½ an hour before 5.00pm from Kay. This evening. “The cash is in-” he said.
“What?” I said. I had worked up an active dislike for Kay. Kay: not his real name. Such consensual silence.
The setting sun shone harsh and saffron through the window, and the light made me frown. The heat on my skin was at odds with the air-conditioning, and the office was as quiet as ever.
“What was in?” I ask again, waiting for him to speak up.
[more..]
