Several dealings with Ted had gone the wrong way in the past. Most of them were the reason Clive had him killed. Deals gone bad, money disappearing from sales.
He thought, once he was dead, that would be the end of it.
But there he was. On the other side of his desk.
Clive tapped his cigarette with his thumb, the other hand pinching the bridge of his nose. The entire conversation was bordering on maddening. He was half considering knocking the glass out of the window pane and leaping out of it.
“Yeah--I get it. You’re pissed off.”
He broke off halfway through, still not entirely sure that it was him. Maybe it was an imposter. A joke. He’d seen the body.
“But you know what happens to people who steal from me. Harry, Grant, Jane.” He rounded off the names on his fingers. “All hit the can because they took shit that wasn’t theirs. And don’t say I didn’t pay you enough. You were one of the highest paid fuckers in this place.”
