pot. 'I hope you all like chilli.' He then doled out a portion of spaghetti in a tomato sauce to each and every one of them while the blonde came back several times bringing salad and garlic bread. 'Bon appetit,' he growled when he'd finished, before sitting down at the head of the table and proceeding to stuff his demonic face. As they ate (and Stegs would always remember that the food was excellent), Rentners asked the two of them questions. What sort of quantity of gear were they after? How were they raising the funds needed? Where'd they done time? Did they know so and so? The questions were probing but nothing unusual, and the two of them answered confidently and without hesitation. Only once did Rentners speak to Brewster, to ask him if he knew how a mutual acquaintance of theirs was doing. Brewster, between sizeable mouthfuls of spaghetti, said he hadn't seen the bloke for ages. Rentners nodded, as if accepting the answer, and carried on talking to the two SO10 men. Yokes did most of the talking, but Stegs had entered the discussion where necessary, and he remembered thinking, as he poured himself a second glass of the
Chateauneuf du Pape, that it wouldn't take more than a few meetings to reel in Rentners. He obviously rated himself very highly, and they're always the easiest to bring down because they never see it coming.
Rentners was the first to finish. As he did so, he gave his belly a satisfying rub and raised his glass. To crime,' he chuckled.
To crime,' said everyone else with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Stegs even raised his glass.
Then Rentners lifted up the empty bottle of white wine and smashed it over Brewster's head. Brewster didn't even know what had hit him, he simply slid off the chair and fell to the floor. Stegs and Yokes stared at Rentners, wondering whether they'd missed something. Yokes began to speak, but their host stood up and pulled a long-barrelled Browning from the waistband of his black jeans and pointed it at him.
'Shut the fuck up, cunt!' he hissed, his face dissolving into a malevolent glare, which hadn't required much of a transformation.
At the same time, Stegs felt something warm and metallic being pushed against his temple as the bloke next to him - the one who'd driven them down there - produced his own gun. Stegs carried on chewing. When he'd finished, he turned to Rentners and glared right back. 'What the fuck is this? What are you trying to do?'
'Shut your fucking mouth, copper!' snarled Rentners, moving the gun round so it was pointed right between Stegs's eyes.
Stegs felt his heart shoot up to his mouth and he silently thanked God that he had Yokes with him because he knew his partner was experienced enough to handle this sort of situation.
'What the fuck are you talking about?' he yelled, indignant.
Who the fuck's a copper? How do I even know you're not a
fucking copper?' He stood up, flinging his serviette onto the table
and ignoring the gun to his head, a picture of righteous anger. Bluff, bluff - it's always bluff.
'Get fucking down!' roared Rentners, his gun hand shaking with rage.
'All right, Steve,' said Yokes. 'Sit down and take it easy.' Stegs slowly sat back down while Yokes turned to Rentners and spoke calmly but with barely suppressed irritation. 'What the fuck is this, Mr Rentners? We came here to do business. We don't like having weapons pointed at us, and having accusations made that are, quite frankly, fucking insulting.'
'Don't fucking try that one. You're coppers. I know you are. And him' - he motioned with the Browning towards the prone form of Brewster - 'he's a fucking grass. You're here to fucking set me up.'
'Bollocks!' yelled Stegs. 'I can't believe you're doing this to us.' 'Is this the way you treat all your customers, Frank? Because if it is--'
'SHUT THAT FUCKING MOUTH!' roared Rentners. 'NOW! BOTH OF YOU! YOU HEAR ME? NOW!'
The whole world had probably heard that. It left Stegs's ears ringing, and he knew that this was serious. Very serious.
Chateauneuf du Pape, that it wouldn't take more than a few meetings to reel in Rentners. He obviously rated himself very highly, and they're always the easiest to bring down because they never see it coming.
Rentners was the first to finish. As he did so, he gave his belly a satisfying rub and raised his glass. To crime,' he chuckled.
To crime,' said everyone else with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Stegs even raised his glass.
Then Rentners lifted up the empty bottle of white wine and smashed it over Brewster's head. Brewster didn't even know what had hit him, he simply slid off the chair and fell to the floor. Stegs and Yokes stared at Rentners, wondering whether they'd missed something. Yokes began to speak, but their host stood up and pulled a long-barrelled Browning from the waistband of his black jeans and pointed it at him.
'Shut the fuck up, cunt!' he hissed, his face dissolving into a malevolent glare, which hadn't required much of a transformation.
At the same time, Stegs felt something warm and metallic being pushed against his temple as the bloke next to him - the one who'd driven them down there - produced his own gun. Stegs carried on chewing. When he'd finished, he turned to Rentners and glared right back. 'What the fuck is this? What are you trying to do?'
'Shut your fucking mouth, copper!' snarled Rentners, moving the gun round so it was pointed right between Stegs's eyes.
Stegs felt his heart shoot up to his mouth and he silently thanked God that he had Yokes with him because he knew his partner was experienced enough to handle this sort of situation.
'What the fuck are you talking about?' he yelled, indignant.
Who the fuck's a copper? How do I even know you're not a
fucking copper?' He stood up, flinging his serviette onto the table
and ignoring the gun to his head, a picture of righteous anger. Bluff, bluff - it's always bluff.
'Get fucking down!' roared Rentners, his gun hand shaking with rage.
'All right, Steve,' said Yokes. 'Sit down and take it easy.' Stegs slowly sat back down while Yokes turned to Rentners and spoke calmly but with barely suppressed irritation. 'What the fuck is this, Mr Rentners? We came here to do business. We don't like having weapons pointed at us, and having accusations made that are, quite frankly, fucking insulting.'
'Don't fucking try that one. You're coppers. I know you are. And him' - he motioned with the Browning towards the prone form of Brewster - 'he's a fucking grass. You're here to fucking set me up.'
'Bollocks!' yelled Stegs. 'I can't believe you're doing this to us.' 'Is this the way you treat all your customers, Frank? Because if it is--'
'SHUT THAT FUCKING MOUTH!' roared Rentners. 'NOW! BOTH OF YOU! YOU HEAR ME? NOW!'
The whole world had probably heard that. It left Stegs's ears ringing, and he knew that this was serious. Very serious.
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