Inside the shop a soft light was glowing, suggesting someone was still in there. The rest of the street was dark and empty apart from a few parked cars. Nothing stirred, not even a cat. ‘By the way,’ said Boges, quietly, ‘I visited Gabbi today and she convinced me to give her your phone number. She’s promised not to give it to anyone else and promised me she wouldn’t use it unless it’s an emergency. I hope that’s OK.’ ‘Sure,’ I said, hoping it wouldn’t get either of us into any trouble. We shrank down as the lights in the shopfront went out, then scrambled around the back of the premises, through the gate and huddled behind a dumpster, carefully waiting to see who was leaving. Eventually, the back door opened and a thin, weedy guy stepped outside, turned back and locked up. I’d never seen him before. He walked away from us, in the direction of a car. Within minutes, he’d driven off.
