“It could be the guest room in his flat, but the window is too small.‘What the fuck?’ says a male. He is young and impossibly lithe. His hair is lustrous and pre-Raphaelite.‘It’s him, the policeman,’ says a female, passing her hand through the arm of the young male, taking refuge behind him.Staffe blinks, sits up in the chair, says, ‘Hello, Curtis. The GA let me in.’ He takes out his phone, reads a new text from Jom. It determines his next move.‘You’re not allowed to be anywhere near me.’Staffe ...wonders how Curtis would know that. ‘I’m here to make sure everything works out for Louis.’‘Louis is going to be fine. I’m looking after him.’‘You have a plan, don’t you?’ Curtis has two towers of reading material under the window – one stack of books on econometrics, probability and the history of stock markets, and another stack of published accounts of Footsie and Dow companies. ‘You seem to be ahead of the syllabus,’ says Staffe. ‘Part of your plan?’‘You didn’t tell me you have a plan, Curt,’ says Mako.‘We spoke to your tutors.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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