Wonga!

28 Maximus Fattius Inspects his Legions

Ari the Greek or Ouzo as he was known to his friends owned a kebab shop strategically placed next to the Albert on the corner of Whitechapel Street. 'Aristotle's Kebab House-The Best Traditional Greek Food,' proclaimed the soot stained sign above the smoked plate glass window. This was a bit rich given that slightly dodgy kebabs and yesterdays doughnuts seemed to cover the whole gambit of Ari's culinary skills but it did capture the essence of his cunning conceived marketing strategy aimed solely at kebab hungry drunks wandering home from The Albert and early morning engineers who could not be bothered to walk to the BR station up the road for their first hot drink of the day.

Cupping his gloved hands against the glass Pawser peered into the steamy interior. Behind the battered vinyl counter he could make out Ouzo standing in his dressing gown and slippers slapping sausages and bacon onto a blackened iron grill. The place looked reassuringly deserted.

Stepping over the snow drifting up against the entrance Pawser pushed through the door. Alerted by the tinkling of the bell over the door, Ouzo looked up briefly from his murderous endeavours. Removing a cheroot from his lips allowed a slow smile of recognition to spread across his face. 'Eello Mester Pawser, long time no see. Eeeess back there. I'll be over in a miineete,' he growled. Returning his cheroot back to its rightful place, wiping his hands down his dressing gown Ouzo returned to chasing the contents of the frying pan with his spatula.

'Back there', referred to the two rickety round wooden tables at the rear of the shop. At one sat Dirk with a small espresso studiously trawling the stock movements in the FST100 listing in yesterday's edition of the FT. Seeing Pawser, Dirk laid his paper down on the table. 'Save your look of disappointment Pawser, Killerman is on his way. He called me yesterday to say he'd had the call. What happened to you? You look like you've been dragged through a hedge backwards.'

'Close encounter with a couple of Latin speaking Romany's I'm afraid Dirk. Ended up taking a beech hedge at thirty miles per hour. I'll update you later. Any idea why we're here?'

'A run in with the Pavee? I'm intrigued. No. I only got the elliptical call from Berty this morning probably much like yourself.'

Ouzo appeared at the table and slipped a large doughnut and a steaming cup of coffee in front of Pawser.'Eeess on the house,' he affirmed.

'Thanks Ouzo. Very generous.' Pawser noted the dressing gown had Hilton Hotels written in gold on the lapel. Ouzo hovered. Pawser sipped the hot coffee. It tasted vaguely of kebab,' Great coffee, I'll tell the guys back at the office.' Ouzo nodded contentedly and slipped away.

'I'd leave the doughnut alone if I were you. I've gone for the toasted sandwich.' Dirk grimaced at Pawser's bun.

'You been away?' enquired Pawser, cautiously inspecting his doughnut. 'anywhere nice?'

'Took the opportunity to take a couple of days in Shagaloof. Came back for New Year, so I got the call this morning.'

'I got a nice Christmas message from McBride.' Pawser remarked pushing his plate away.

'Oh, I got one of those as well. I ticked the box marked -'hanging' as my preference. I've never liked the thought of 600,000 volts whistling up my exhaust pipe. Oh wait up, here's the malevolent mutt molester of old London town.' Dirk nodded toward the door before burying himself back in his paper.

Killerman waved across the room at them, picked up a few things from Ouzo before coming across to join them. 'Hello, old man,' He dropped a bacon butty and a cup of milky tea onto the table. 'Good to be back in the game. Eh?'

'I'm not sure any dogs around here are going to want to play any games with you Killerman. They've all been reading about you in the Nationals,' muttered Dirk from behind his paper. 'Hold on look at this.' Dirk rummaged in his pockets and pulled out a chrome ring which he placed on the table.