Free Behind Closed Doors by Michael Donovan Page A

might bite.
    It was a hundred metre reel of electric cabling. Heavy duty. Had to weigh at least thirty pounds.
    â€˜You went right in and bought this from them?’
    â€˜Like they say,’ said Shaughnessy, ‘make hay.’
    â€˜You get a receipt?’ I said.
    â€˜Do I look like a fool?’
    â€˜Not you,’ I said. ‘You don’t look like an electrician either.’
    â€˜They weren’t looking too closely,’ Shaughnessy said. ‘I walked into the shop while they were still stacking the reels. Told them it was just the gear I was looking for. What could they tell me? Come back when we’ve advertised the stuff on Crimewatch?’
    â€˜A wrap,’ I concurred.
    â€˜The report will be in tomorrow,’ Shaughnessy said. ‘Colour photos and all.’
    â€˜Anything else?’ I said. I was just stalling Lucy, who was only hanging around to hear about the girl. She looked at Shaughnessy.
    â€˜We got a call,’ Shaughnessy said.
    â€˜New business?’
    â€˜Ex-business.’
    He sat back and waited for Lucy to elaborate. She took the cue and perched herself back on his desk where she could switch to schoolmarm.
    â€˜Eddie,’ she said, ‘you need a diplomacy course.’
    I agreed. ‘I applied once but the admin clerk threw me out when I mentioned her halitosis.’
    â€˜Well someone’s pretty pissed at you.’ Lucy wiggled her backside on Shaughnessy’s desk, happy to be back on the familiar ground of my screw-ups.
    Shaughnessy leaned forward. ‘I got in just before Lucy’s ears burned off,’ he said.
    â€˜One of those,’ I said. We got those calls all the time. Hazard of the trade. The utilities companies were the worst.
    â€˜One of those,’ Shaughnessy agreed. ‘This was the tricky type. The type with stuff about lawsuits.’
    â€˜Lawsuits?’ I gave him astonished. ‘Who’ve we been dealing with that knows about law? Are we going upmarket?’
    â€˜Not unless you consider HP Logistics upmarket.’
    I gave that some thought. Palmer and his dirty tricks had slipped my mind. ‘HP Logistics is definitely not upmarket,’ I said. ‘What did they want?’
    â€˜Something about damages. Vandalised equipment.’
    â€˜A lousy office chair?’ I said. ‘Let them sue.’
    â€˜That and the lousy truck,’ Shaughnessy said. ‘A Volvo FH tractor. HP were keen to read Lucy the list price. Eighty-six thousand on the road.’
    â€˜Including road tax?’ I asked.
    â€˜Excluding.’
    I pursed my lips. ‘And the chair on top.’
    â€˜And the window.’
    â€˜A pane of glass,’ I said.
    â€˜A thirty-foot pane of toughened plate glass,’ Lucy said.
    â€˜Yeah,’ I conceded, ‘it was a big window. But we should challenge the toughened bit. The chair went through it like Perspex.’
    â€˜I take it the consultation didn’t go well,’ Shaughnessy said.
    â€˜We didn’t land the job,’ I admitted.
    â€˜Personality clash?’ Shaughnessy asked.
    I nodded and finished my baguette. Swilled it down with cold coffee. ‘The guy wanted us to burglarise a competitor to set up a rigged bid.’
    Shaughnessy looked thoughtful. ‘Did you give him our rates?’
    â€˜He’d already trebled them before I gave him anything.’
    â€˜And you threw a chair through his window? What were you pushing for? Share options?’
    â€˜I wanted to hit him,’ I said.
    â€˜Might have been cheaper.’
    â€˜Yeah,’ I said. ‘But thirty foot of glass is a strong temptation.’
    â€˜We’re going to be bankrupt by the time you’ve handled all your temptations, Eddie,’ Lucy said.
    I looked at her. ‘You think I should phone him back? Say we’ll take the job?’
    â€˜On triple fees?’ said Shaughnessy. ‘Might be worth thinking about.’
    I