Instead, he decided to look in on his obbo team.At present on duty outside Carmichael’s flat were Hart and McLaren, and as Slider came along he was pleased to see that they blended in with the background nicely. He only knew them because he knew them. McLaren was leaning against the wall between the two shops opposite, eating a drippy meatball sub, and given that everyone on London’s streets under the age of fifty seemed to be eating all the time these days, it made him inconspicuous. Hart had abandoned her smart work suits for a cropped top and a pair of hot pants, and if men walking past were looking at her it was not because they thought she might be a cop. She was wearing an iPod and earphones, an inspired piece of costume because it gave her an excuse to jiggle about a bit and disguised the fact that she was staying in the same place.Slider didn’t want to go up to her and blow her cover, but he saw her spot him, so he went into the tobacconist’s next to the tarot shop under Carmichael’s flat, and bought a pack of cigarettes and a box of matches.
