'Anything? You can get me anything?' Blacklip's voice had dropped to a whisper, his mind now entirely focused on the task ahead. His whole world had become reduced to the few square feet of this tiny, dimly lit room, its stifling heat temporarily forgotten.

'Anything.'

The word was delivered calmly, yet decisively. Blacklip knew the fixer did indeed mean anything. Even murder.

So, with a shy, almost childlike smile, he shared his bloody fantasy. Occasionally he stole brief glances at the man opposite him to check that what he was saying wasn't going too far, but each time Kane smiled back, reassuring him that everything was fine, that there was nothing wrong with what he wanted.

When he'd finished, Blacklip gave Kane the sort of look that a dog gives his master. Asking to be understood. Begging for his bone.

'I see,' said Kane, after a short pause.

'Can you do it?'

'It'll cost a lot. There's the logistics of it, for a start. And the risk.'

'I didn't think they'd be missed in a place like this. After all, there's plenty of them.'

'True, but the authorities are cracking down. That's not to say I can't do it, but it will cost.'

'How much?'

'Five thousand US.'

Blacklip felt a lurch of disappointment. 'That's an awful lot. I don't think I've got that sort of money. I was hoping for nearer two.'

Kane appeared to think about this for a moment, while Blacklip watched him, praying he'd take the bait.

'I'll see what I can do,' Kane answered eventually. 'But I'm going to need a deposit so that I can set things in motion. Obviously this sort of thing requires a lot of effort. Can you give me two hundred US now?'

'Please tell me you'll do it, Mr Kane,' Richard Blacklip said quietly.

'All right,' Kane sighed, appearing to come to a decision. 'I'll do it for two thousand.'