Other people's chatter blends into a white noise in the background, and the names and numbers on my computer screen blend into an illegible soup, with...no chance of getting my full attention until Monday morning now. Finally, the magic hour comes around and everyone makes their own way off in their little cliques, wishing each and all a pleasant weekend as 48 hours of freedom beckon them all.I quickly depart the office and make my way a short way down the street to my favourite haunt. A. ‘Quit fucking with it, and count it,’ Mint says. She hears the click as he cocks the hammer, another click as he uncocks it. Everything remains a tic with him. Almost everything, at least. ‘One,’ she says theatrically, ‘two, three, four, by Joseph, Mint Mallard. You’ve got over seventy thousand dollars here. So she didn’t spend a cent?’ Mira hikes up the hem of her skirt and removes her pistol from its thigh holster and sits it within arms reach, on the coffee table between them. Mint slides. More

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