Page 174 of The Hallmarked Man (Cormoran Strike #8)

No man omits precaution, quite neglects

Secrecy, safety, schemes not how retreat,

Having schemed he might advance.

Robert Browning Count Guido Franceschini

‘There’s a reason why we’re startin’ oot at seven a.m., is there?’ yawned Barclay, arriving at the garage where Strike kept his BMW the following morning. Barclay was holding a McDonald’s bag that smelled of bacon. Wardle, who’d arrived a couple of minutes earlier, was drinking a takeaway coffee.

‘Yeah, you two are going to go ahead and scope out the territory,’ said Strike.

‘My face and car have both been seen there, so I won’t be showing myself till after dark.

You can drive us as far as the rental,’ he added, handing the car keys to Wardle.

‘Don’t want my leg seizing up if I have to fight. ’

‘We can handle him, if it comes to that,’ said Wardle, walking around the car.

‘Neither of you are going to get involved in physical stuff unless it’s absolutely necessary,’ said Strike.

‘If I get caught, it’ll be a pain in the arse, because the police are already fucked off at me and I’ll be back in the news.

But if a bloke who’s only just left the Met is caught breaking and entering, or my subcontractor who’s recently been arrested for climbing on roofs is done for assault, we’ll have far too high a percentage of the workforce whose names and mugs have been in the papers. ’

‘Ah get car sick in the back,’ said Barclay gloomily, as Strike got into the front passenger seat.

‘You’ll be fine,’ said Strike, ‘unless they’ve shoved prawns in your Egg McMuffin.’

‘Ye can forget borrowin’ mah knuckledusters, if that’s yer attitude,’ said Barclay, drawing his long legs into the car.