6

Jamieson is sitting in the chair, watching the door close behind Calum. Young is still sitting on the couch to his right, sitting in silence. Jamieson is a man of definite action. He makes the call to have a man killed, and he turns back to his horses, or his golf, or whatever hobby is occupying his attention today. Only, today, he doesn’t. Today he sits tapping the table, still looking at the closed door.

‘He’s got a lot of talent, that boy,’ he says softly. ‘Something about him I’m not sure of.’

‘He’s just socially awkward,’ Young shrugs, ‘that’s his way. Smarter than your average bear.’

‘Aye,’ Jamieson nods, ‘that’s a fact. Frank told me that, first day he met him. Said the boy was smart, said he had the guts for it too.’

Courage and intelligence are worth little alone. It’s why Jamieson and Young work together, and always will. It’s why so many people are almost good at what they do. They have one or the other. A stupid person can have enough courage to make them useful in this industry. A smart person can do a lot. To be great, you must have both. You have to know when to rely on your brain and when to rely on your guts. Some people have enough of both to keep themselves free and working for decades. Sometimes even people with an abundance of both make a mistake. One mistake. One simple, sloppy mistake. Twenty years in jail. Unemployable thereafter. The smartest of all know not to take their brains for granted.

‘You worried about the job?’ Young’s asking him. It’s rare to see Jamieson being uncertain about a job.

Jamieson shrugs. ‘I don’t care how good the boy is – this is the sort of job that can trip him up. Trust me. I ain’t saying he can’t do it. I ain’t saying he’ll botch it, not at all. He’s the best we can get for the job. But these are the ones. Look at it. We don’t know what we’re sending him into. We don’t know what Winter’s got.’

He says it reluctantly, because he knows that it’s an implied insult towards his friend. It’s always Young’s role to plan the job. It’s Young’s role to know what they are likely to be up against. They think they know, but they can’t be certain.

Young sighs impatiently. They’ve been over this before. Lewis Winter is now working with others. He’s moving into new territory because he believes he can get away with it. He’s making himself more high-profile because he needs to, if he’s going to attract the new business he wants. They know that he’s becoming a danger to them. They know that he has bigger people behind him. Or that he will have. They aren’t there yet. There’s a promise of support. So you get rid of him before the promise is realized. It makes sense. It’s logical to Young. He’s justified it to himself. It’s necessary to kill Lewis Winter. Now Jamieson is questioning.

‘He has no support yet. I’ve been having him watched. The only contact he has is over the phone. There’s no extra security. Not yet. We know that. The boy himself will check. He won’t just blaze in there. He’s smart.’

Jamieson nods his head. All of that is true. ‘The boy will follow him. So long as he doesn’t follow him so long that the support arrives.’

‘He won’t have to worry about Winter’s new friends. We have to worry about them. He doesn’t. He has to worry about the girlfriend. Maybe he has to worry about one or two dick-head hangers-on.’

Jamieson smiles and nods. There are always hangers-on, people who want to be a part of it. They find a sop like Winter and attach themselves to him, try to bleed him dry.

‘What about that wee gold-digger?’

The gold-digger. There are plenty of them floating around too. Always have been, always will be. No worse than the hangers-on, and in many ways more fun. The same aim: bleed you dry and move on. Most gold-diggers are of no consequence. You enjoy their company, you give them a little something and then you move them quietly along. Some are more dangerous. Some are harder to get rid of. Zara Cope has always been one of those. A smart girl, one who knows how to make it last. One who knows how to get more than money. She knows how to get control. She’s been with Winter for a while now, moved in with him. She’s always with him, pulling the invisible strings. She has her claws in deep, and she will surely be there when Winter expires.

Young’s shrugging. ‘He’ll judge how to deal with her. He’s smart enough to work it out.’

‘Hope he doesn’t kill her,’ Jamieson says quietly, ‘I wouldn’t want to piss off Colgan.’

‘Would it piss him off?’

‘He still carries a candle for that bitch,’ Jamieson nods solemnly. ‘I don’t know Colgan well, but I know that much. Obvious.’

‘The boy will judge it.’

Jamieson turns and reaches for the remote control, putting on one television. Not a lot of sport on this afternoon. Not a lot of work to do, either. Building up to things. Should be building more quickly, but new things keep getting in the way. New things, like Lewis Winter’s new friends.