The Pure

don’t you just be patient? Be a good boy? Work your way up like everyone else?’
    ‘It’s impossible with her. Since her husband died she’s held all the power herself, made all the decisions. We don’t even know what decisions she’s making, it’s that bad. A lot of guys who work for her don’t even know each other. There’s a guy who’s been with her for years, and he’s still working the same estate. I can’t stand it any longer. I’ve got plans.’
    ‘But she pays well.’
    ‘Yes, but I’m ambitious.’
    ‘So what are these plans?’
    ‘I have . . . other contacts.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Never mind who. An organisation just as big as Liberty’s. An organisation that wants a piece of your product. There’s no reason you should only sell to Liberty. No reason at all.’
    ‘So you’re planning to offer my boss better terms than the bitch. Right?’
    ‘That’s right.’
    ‘And you’re planning to become the number one dealer.’
    ‘Eventually, yes. The other lot have promised to make me a partner if I can get you to sell to them.’
    ‘That’s your ticket off the streets.’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘And you’re planning to avoid getting killed by Liberty.’
    ‘I know what I’m doing. Don’t worry about me.’
    ‘You look worried, if I may say so.’
    ‘This is business, Hamidi. Business.’
    ‘OK, then tell me something,’ said Hamidi in a hard voice. ‘Why aren’t you worried that I’ll go straight back to the bitch? Tell her you’re trying to stab her in the back?’
    Abelev blanched. ‘You wouldn’t do that.’
    ‘I wouldn’t?’
    ‘This is money we’re talking about. I know the rules of the game, Hamidi. Sell to me and your boss’ll be far richer. Liberty would be ancient history.’
    ‘The bitch won’t go out without a fight. You’ll have a battle on your hands, make no mistake.’
    ‘I’ll sort it. All you need to know is volume will be high, and it’ll increase by increments as time goes on. And we’ll pay you fifteen per cent more than Liberty.’
    ‘Fifteen?’
    ‘That’s what I said,’ said Abelev, holding the other man’s gaze.
    The swarthy man smiled. ‘I like you, Abelev. You’re a straightforward man. A serious, straightforward man.’
    ‘I want to do business, to make money,’ the blond man said. ‘That’s all.’
    Hamidi leaned forward in a cloud of cigarette smoke, his collar casting a shadow across his cheeks. ‘Let me tell you something, my friend. The goods we provide – they are the best quality. The very best quality. Direct from Afghanistan, one hundred per cent pure, mixed with absolutely nothing. Pure, potent and powerful. You won’t find better anywhere in London, anywhere in the world, my friend. The whole world. Our goods are –’ he kissed his fingers softly ‘– out of this world.’
    ‘I know,’ said Abelev. ‘That’s why I’m approaching you and no one else. Real money depends on a good reputation. And a good reputation depends on a high-quality product.’
    ‘Not just high quality. The best quality, Abelev. The best.’
    ‘The best. I know. The best.’
    ‘We don’t trust just anyone. So far, we’ve only trusted the bitch.’
    ‘But now your boss no longer trusts her. That’s why you’re here.’
    ‘Why should we trust you any more than her?’
    ‘Because I’m offering you a better price. It’s as simple as that.’
    ‘What is the name of this organisation you’re talking with?’
    ‘You wouldn’t know them. Only people in London know them.’
    ‘I need to know. It’s a matter of trust.’
    ‘They’d kill me.’
    ‘And I wouldn’t? It’s a matter of trust.’
    ‘I can’t tell you. That’s also a matter of trust.’
    Hamidi sat back, musing.
    ‘It makes sense,’ said Abelev quickly. ‘Business is business. Whichever way you look at it, it makes sense.’
    ‘So,’ said Hamidi, sucking on his cigarette, ‘how well do you know the goods? Do you know them in your brain, in your heart, in your veins? Do you know them from your own experience?’
    ‘I don’t take smack, if that’s what you mean.’
    ‘What about crack? Cocaine?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘What’s your poison, then? Cannabis?’ He wrapped his lips lethargically, mockingly, around the word.
    ‘No. I never sample the goods I sell.’
    ‘Don’t tell me: you’re a serious man.’
    ‘Don’t mock me, sir. I came here to do business. Not to drink vodka and be mocked.’
    ‘Tell me something,’ said Hamidi, stubbing his cigarette