You know what I mean.’ I did know what he meant, but sometimes I just can’t help being flippant. Sometimes too, it helps to give me a handle on what sort of a person I’m dealing with. Flippant back is one thing, serious and impatient is another. Martin Price was serious. He’d phoned mentioning the name of a client who’d mentioned my name to him. Not a bad conduit to me, especially as I remembered the client and he’d paid well. We’d set up this meeting at the coffee shop on Glebe Point Road next door to the Valhalla Cinema. He’d seemed a bit surprised at the venue, but then again I’d been a bit surprised at his chosen time—8 a.m. on a Monday morning. I’d explained that the place was closer to where I lived than my office and that I wasn’t what you’d call an early morning person. So there we were at a table out on the street with two long blacks. He was in his expensive but slightly wrinkled business suit, and I was in my jeans and leather jacket where wrinkles don’t matter.
