* * * *
“This has gone too far.” He muttered as he handed Sayer the envelope.
“Calm down, George.” Sayer took the envelope to his desk and pulled out the papers that were inside. “She’s got a history.”
“She’s a cop.” George put his hands on top of the desk, overlooking the outspreaddocuments, while Sayer studied them. “She’s not to be trusted.” He looked up at the newly installed router and back down at Sayer. “She’s setting us up.”
“She isn’t setting anyone up. That grandfather of hers was a hitman back in the day, a very good one. I thought the name rang a bell when she mentioned it. And even then, her being a cop can be of help. We can always use another contact in an agency such as the Interpol. Besides, all you have to do is give her time.”
George was angry, getting more and more frustrated by the minute, so he sat down and waited for Sayer to speak again.
“Are you sure about these people?” Sayer, as expected, broke the silence. “The ones you got these files from?”
“A hundred percent.”
“She’s got a bit of everything. She was born and brought up in the business. Her father was a drug dealer; her grandfather, a hitman. Mom and Dad executed when she was twelve, lived with her grandfather, learned everything from him. She’s not a cop deep inside, she’ll never be.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I have a feeling. Let me deal with her and you’ll see.”
George leapt to his feet, visibly agitated, and marked each of his words with a poke of his finger on the desk. “All I want is to not have to say ‘I told you’ in the end.”
“Rest assured, you won’t have to.”