The fact that the murderers even knew of his connection to her suggested one thing, he mused, taking a long drag on his cigarette, that in all probability Gerry Bates and his gang were involved. The degree of investigation smacked of an old timer like him, he reasoned, which would mean that it was the recommencing of the gemini killings rather than a copycat attack, but he'd thought that all along anyway: "Kids these days, no style," he remarked to Ellie, as she set down another cup of his life elixir. She smiled in agreement, knowing nothing more was required from her, and silently withdrew, realising he was smack in the middle of something big again.
If it was the gemini's, there would be another victim, and sooner rather than later, he thought. Casually he walked over to the bar, and scanned the darkened pub. He needed to make a call and wanted to make sure the bar was clear. Suitably reassured he pushed open the swing door down to the toilets. As his hand touched it, he picked up a splinter from the cracked edge, a quick jabbing pain, which led him to swear lightly. He closed the door firmly and picked up the phone, dropping a few coins in from the leather pouch he always kept with him.
"Josie Jones speaking".
"Josie, hi," he kept his voice deliberately light. "Listen I want you to change my sandwich order. Can you pick up a ham and tomato for me this lunchtime." He caught the sigh of his long-term secretary over the phone. "I know it's short notice, but if you could get it from the usual place I'd be grateful". Looking around once again, he picked up his change and walked back into the bar. He trusted Josie and knew that she'd manage to set him up with the man he needed to see. In his game you needed a long-established code and they had that.