Bang: Memoirs of a Relationship Assassin Read Online Free PDF Page B

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    Pinned up on the wall next to the SIM cabinet was a huge map of the UK, with large dots marked in red felt tip. Over twenty around London. Half a dozen in Manchester. Others in Newcastle, Cambridge, Southampton, a few in the Home Counties. It almost looked like the country had been shot by a submachine gun. Riddled with the bullet-holes of my past cases. I picked up the felt pen and circled a red dot in Wiltshire, a new little gunshot wound where I guessed Amanda’s village might be. Smirked a bit when I realised I was shooting up Arse-End. Honestly, grow up Scott!
    Barry was still talking. Bit tough on the old sod, pretending to be an entire company by himself. Maybe I could lend a hand.
    “Well, Mr Smith, I’m sure – ”
    “Call on line four!” I shouted from the middle of the room. Barry glared at me, but recovered.
    “I’m sure that in this particular case, we can – ”
    “Somebody get that bloody phone! Can’t you see I’m busy!”
    “– We can approve a request for a ten per cent – ”
    “Have your people fax our people!”
    “– Ten per cent discount, yes that’s fine, so we’ll – ”
    “For God’s sake, I told you DOUBLE espresso! You’re fired!”
    “– We’ll be in touch, Mr Smith, thank you, goodbye!”
    Barry slammed the phone down, just as I started demanding some executive relief from my secretary. “Scott! For frig’s sake, what are you doing!”
    “It’s a busy day!” I waved my arms. “What can I do! It’s a madhouse in here!”
    “You silly bugger, you’ve probably scared him off! That’s a new client you’ve just lost there!”
    “Nah, chill out. He’ll be back.” I heaved myself up onto the end of Barry’s desk. “Anyone who calls themselves ‘Mr Smith’ obviously has something to hide. Don’t worry about it.”
    Barry grumbled as he updated Mr Smith’s file on his PC. I watched his stubby fingers slam down on the keyboard like sausages fired out of a gun. To cheer him up, I told him how the Bentley-Foster case was a complete success.
    “Hmmph, yes, I worked that out for myself,” he huff-puffed. “Got confirmation from the bank this morning. Transfer of funds from your man’s company.”
    “So Bob’s paid up!”
    “Yeah, I’ve already transferred it to our accounts. Should be in yours by tomorrow.”
    “Good old Bob. He did look pleased.”
    “Not so pleased that he gave us a bonus.” Barry started unwrapping a Scotch egg on his desk. “Just the flat rate, not a penny more. That’s how these corporate types get so rich, you know, by stiffing the little people. Bet he squeaks when he walks.”
    I shrugged, thinking that our bonus was probably going towards repairing his Mercedes. Not that Barry needed to know that particular detail. The knowledge wouldn’t make him happy. Besides, it was worth the money for the memory.
    “I brought the suit back.” I gestured to the beige Saville Row suit, hanging up on the doorframe covered in plastic. “And I was thinking, why don’t we just buy it, rather than hire it out every time?”
    Barry chomped on his Scotch egg. “Thuf suths uhrn’t cheep, yuh knuhw.”
    “Yeah but this is, what, the fourth time I’ve worn the same suit? False economy there, surely.”
    Swallowing with a loud gulp, Barry scowled at me. “I tell you what, Scott, how about you let me worry about the economies, all right? You know, let me do my side and you do yours, okay?”
    Fair enough, I thought, that’s what agents were for. And Barry isn’t Barry unless he’s in business of some sort. When he agreed to be my agent – a story in itself – he didn’t just start working for me, he went the whole hog and set up Infidelity Ltd from scratch.
    The funny thing is, it’s all above board. Legally registered as a limited company, Barry’s got his name down as the director. Officially, we’re a legitimate escort agency, providing attractive men and women to accompany senior professionals when they entertain each