Cameron McGill, private investigator, is posing as Candy, a drug dealer from Leeds. She has set up a meeting with one of Manchester’s drug barons…

At the end of the road I cut off onto Albert Square, stopping by the Consort’s memorial in the centre. From there I could see it all. The big gothic Town Hall stood massively illuminated at the far edge, way across the cobbles. The roads and pavements running around the three other sides were busy enough, but the square itself and the benches around it were empty. Except for Albert and the four other statues, I was alone, in the heart of the city.

I walked diagonally across the big open space and sat down on one of the benches facing into the square, tapping my feet impatiently. The black look on my face was no longer an act. I was tired of playing his game, and more than a little pissed off at being given the run-around. Either he wanted to deal or he didn’t.

All around the vast square, people were scurrying about their business. Some were going home from work, others on their way out for the night. A well-dressed young woman hurried across the cobbles towards me, an eager, anxious look on her face like she might be on a first date and unsure of what to expect. A businessman ambled past to my right, cradling an old leather briefcase to his body, like it was full of cash, or precious documents. An old couple sat down wearily on a bench fifty feet away. A mother tripped past on the far side of the square, her two small children dragging colourful balloons behind them.

All so very ordinary. All so clean and wholesome. Right now I wished that I was one of them, going about a normal life, looking forward to a normal evening … If this guy was who I thought he was, he’d probably kill me if he found out what I was doing.

I shivered with cold and leant back against the bench, pushing my paranoia away. Letting go. Stretching out my legs, feeling the tautness of my muscles, sensing the adrenalin beginning to bite, closing my eyes, clearing my mind.

Drifting, drifting …

Suddenly all my senses were on alert.

He was there behind me. I smelt the sharp acidic bite of male sweat first. Then a finger tracing a pattern on my head, then his warm, fetid breath brushed the back of my neck as he started to sing, very badly; his heavy, mid-European accent rasping in my eardrums.

‘It’s the Candy-m-a-n, it’s the Candy-m-a-n ...’

I opened my eyes without moving a muscle. ‘Very funny.’ I muttered, without turning. ‘Why don’t you come round here where I can see you?’

He ruffled the hair on the back of my head and then walked around the bench and into my line of vision. A thin, mealy looking guy, wearing a blue fleece, jeans and dirty trainers. His dark, lanky hair was overdue for washing and he probably hadn’t shaved for at least two days. He didn’t look like he’d eaten for a long time either. But what struck me more than anything was the long, white, hairless scar that divided the right side of his face. That, and the deranged, dangerously playful look in his eyes.

I stayed quite still, stretched out, eyeing him coldly whilst my heart tried to fight its way out of my chest and make a run for it. But I breathed steadily and focussed on his eyes. The worst thing I could do was look scared.

He stood right in front of me, weighing me up, a smirk playing on his scaly lips. Then he lifted his right leg and put it in between my thighs, pushing it up into my crotch. Smiling curiously. Waiting for a reaction

I sat up, pulling back. ‘I came to do business,’ I remarked, cold as ice. ‘Touch me again and I leave.’

He smirked and sat down silently next to me, fouling the air.

I moved away a little. ‘You should get a fucking bath, man. You stink.’

The smile slipped and a sneer took it’s place. ‘Yeah, and you should get zip fitted on mouth. Johnny say you was gobby cow.’

I looked back at him belligerently. ‘So what the fuck happened to you, man? I busted a gut to make the bar and you never even showed.’

He grinned kind of scarily and winked. ‘You know score, Candy … You trust people you never know, eh?’ He shook his head and smiled kind of sneakily. ‘I think maybe not.’

I held him with my eyes. ‘And just who the fuck are you when you’re at home?’

He drew back. ‘I deal you baggies, maybe few ounces rock or some e, lady, but you keep nose out, yes?’

I turned in my seat so that I was facing him and shook my head.

‘Look man, you don’t get it do you? I’m not talking a few pathetic wraps, or a bag of skunk. My regular guy took a fuckin’ powder. He ran off, yeh? I got my people waitin’ man. They got punters. Jesus I’m gettin’ all kinds of fucking verbal … Look, I need a half brick of shit and a K of rock – minimum - an’ I need it soon.’

He looked back at me coldly, like he wasn’t too impressed. But his eyes blinked and his hand jerked.

‘Look man,’ I persevered, ‘ I don’t know you, either, right? You could be any fucker. At least gimme your name, then we’re equal, right?’

He eyed me warily, but he was biting.

‘Yeah, what about you…Candy? I not hear that name around.’

‘Maybe you haven’t been listening in the right places. Next time you’re in Meanwood, you ask. You’ll hear plenty of shit then, I promise.’

I watched him as I said it. Chapeltown he’d know. He might even have contacts there. Meanwood … Jesus, who the hell ever went to Meanwood?

He sat thinking for a spell, the guy was clearly no geography expert.

I started to get up. ‘Ok so you’re a nobody, and your wasting my time…’

‘No, wait.’

I glared at him and stood my ground.

‘You chill, lady. I get what you want, alright, but I need time, I need sign of good faith.’

I eyed him cynically. ‘How big sign?’

‘Two hundred.’

‘Two hundred quid?’ I ran my fingers through my hair. ‘Jesus, you think I’m some kind of bubblehead, man? You could be some fuckin’ tramp on the make, for all I know.’

His eyes suddenly jumped in their sockets and his face twisted angrily. I guess I’d hit a tender spot.

He pointed his finger in my face. ‘You show fuckin’ respect, yes?’ He hissed. ‘You ask any person here in city. They tell you not mess with Vinko Cuzak – ok?’

I pushed his hand away, pleased that, at last, I had a name. ‘Yeah, ok Vinko, just so long as we understand each other. I’ll go to fifty quid - just to show my respect.’

He snorted derisively. ‘One hundred – then maybe I see what I do for you.’

‘Yeah, ok.’ I dug in my jacket pocket and pulled out what was left of the wad, then keeping the money hidden between us, peeled off five twenties.

‘Ok, I need two days. It is big supply you want, alright? I am in touch, forty-eight hours. You have plenty money, yes?’

We haggled for a good ten minutes about quality and price. He assured me that the resin was top grade and that the crack was as pure as a nun’s knickers. They always start off like that, they’re almost always lying through their teeth. So we negotiated. And, eventually, we agreed both price and quantity. I stuck in my own proviso about quality. No one I’d ever known would do a deal like this without it.

‘I want notes. Twenties, tens, fives. Five thousand, unmarked.’ He stared at me with his strange eyes. ‘I check money before I let you go. You make monkey business, I kill you. You are smart bitch. You understand, I think.’

‘Yeah, no probs, man.’ I pointed my finger at him. ‘But don’t you try and fuck me either, Vinko. I know what’s what. If the stuff is crap, the deal’s off. Do you understand that?’

A greasy smile slipped back onto his face and he leant back, his hand on his heart. ‘I have reputation Candy girl… Like I tell you, ask around.’ The smile slipped again. ‘But maybe while you ask, you check what happen when people fuck me, yes? In case you feel like talking out of your turn.’

The wind was getting up now and the square was suddenly icy cold. I pulled my leather jacket round me and stared at him silently until the smile was replaced by a scowl and he stood up.

‘I will get in touch, yes? You take care, Candy. I watch you.’

‘What’s your number - just in case. It didn’t show up on my phone.’

‘You want me - see Johnny. If not, I ring in two day with time and place. You come alone, yes?’ He looked at me like he didn’t trust me an inch. ‘Now where you stay? In case I need you.’

He looked at me like I had no choice. These bastards are all the fucking same. They always have to be on top of the game.

‘Overnite Inn, just off Deansgate - and don’t start following me, I don’t like it.’

He smiled like he was pleased with himself.

I threw him a black look. ‘Don’t fuck with me, Vinko.’

He grunted and an evil grin spread across his face as he turned to go. ‘No worries Candy,’ he scoffed, ‘you safe as house. I never fuck lesbian.’

I gave him the finger and watched my hundred quid walk away along the front of the Town Hall. Then, without turning back, Vinko Cuzak sauntered round the corner like he was the fucking Lord Mayor or something.

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