The Buffalo Job by Mike Knowles

Author:Mike Knowles
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crime Fiction
ISBN: 9781770905108
Publisher: ECW Press
Published: 2014-04-22T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

THURSDAY

I didn’t watch the director leave his place the next morning. At least, not in person. I sat in a diner next to Miles waiting to order. Carl and Ilir sat opposite us. Ilir’s foot bounced under the table and caused the salt shaker to slowly vibrate its way across the scarred tabletop.

“He’s going,” I said when the laptop received an update from the tracking program about the device being activated.

Miles looked at the clock above the diner counter. “Eight forty-five again. Poor Andrew is not an early riser.” He shrugged. “Must be one of the perks of being the boss.”

A waitress, who already looked exhausted, sauntered up to the table and went for her pen and pad. “What can I get you?”

I ordered oatmeal. Miles and Carl asked for eggs and bacon. Ilir got a waffle with whipped cream, strawberries, and chocolate sauce.

“What?” he said when he caught us looking at him. “It’s good.”

“Do all gangsters eat this way or is it just the Albanians?” Miles asked.

“Shut up,” Ilir said.

“You want me to ask the waitress if they have crayons and those paper placemats with a maze on the back? I don’t want you to get bored while the grown-ups are talking.”

Ilir gave Miles the finger.

We all drank coffee while we waited for our food. After the waitress dropped everything off, I put three cell phones on the table next to a hard cardstock FedEx envelope.

“Your own phones go in the envelope. The burners go in your pockets,” I said.

The three men shot each other looks. The envelope was something we had never talked about. The three men at the table were all criminals, and all criminals share one thing in common: they hate being told what to do. Telling them to put their phones in the envelope automatically raised everyone’s backs. The demand was also a statement about the pecking order. They would think I was marking my territory — I wanted it that way. Marking territory was something they understood, and if they thought they understood my actions, they wouldn’t question them.

“There are three numbers programmed in each of them. No names — the numbers are assigned alphabetically,” I said.

“So Carl, me, Miles, and you,” Ilir said.

“Good job, sport, now eat your waffle,” Miles said.

“Shut up, man. I’m just making sure is all. Where does the envelope go?”

“To Ox. He will give everything back when we’re home.”

“That really necessary?”

“There’s a reason they’re not called dumbphones, kid. A good tech guy can pull all kinds of incriminating things off a phone. It’s best to have it out of the picture.”

I picked up the envelope and pointed it at Carl and Ilir. Both men put in their phones without complaint. Miles kept his hands on the table. I shook the envelope in his direction and he rolled his eyes. “I know it sounds cheesy, but it’s a business phone. I got contacts in this thing.” I shook the envelope again. Miles looked at Carl and Ilir, but he found no help — they had already put their phones inside.

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