Favours


I'll scratch yours - Editor

by Richard Keane

In Brad’s world, money could only get you so far, but do a favour for the right person and doors would open you never even knew existed. Do a favour for the manager of the Langham hotel in London – say a nuisance broad who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut needed to disappear – and you could get an all expenses paid weekend in the penthouse. Whilst a favour for a detective at the local precinct could ensure an unfortunate event in the near future would go largely unnoticed.

Favours were the thinking man’s currency.

But, as with anything, too much of a good thing is bound to come crashing down sooner or later. Get on the wrong side of the wrong person, and then things got real complicated…

The favour was for an anonymous client – that was how things worked most of the time. You do a favour for me, I do a favour for you, but that doesn’t mean I need to know if you work for the government – hell! You could be doing a favour for the Prime Minister and be none the wiser.

The favour had been passed on by an intermediary. Not that there was a call centre where favours were handled all day long. In this line of work it was best not to know who you were doing business with. The job was simple. A warehouse on Dart Street, down by the docks, needed to accidentally catch fire and burn down to the ground. Not one of his most discreet favours, but he wasn’t complaining.





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