At the man scrunched into the back

Good. What I can't understand is why the emby would want to hire him in the first place. They don't. This is personal. It's my friend's birthday. Ingrid had only vaguely sketched out the story she'd planned to tell this woman. If she was questioned too closely there was just a chance she might contradict herself. And you want to surprise him? He's just been through a messy break-up. A birthday present like this is exactly what he needs. That's why the escort can't show up too early. imobiliare bucuresti Or too late. That would totally ruin the surprise. All right. But it is very short notice. It'll cost. Ingrid pulled out a roll of twenty pound notes from her purse. Does cash suit? The woman struggled to smile, but her rubbery face refused to cooperate. Always. Ingrid left her counting her money and hailed a taxi heading south down Edgware Road. A half hour later she arrived at her next destination. Fifteen minutes after that she had outlined Angela Tate's part in the plan to the journalist. They were standing outside the Evening News building on Blackfriars Road, just south google of the Thames, a cool breeze blowing off the river. Tate had managed to smoke her way through two cigarettes. You're absolutely sure Faber's guilty? Tate asked. I've never been more sure about anything. Do I have carte blanche to invent any kind of story I like? It needs to be as credible as possible. I can write any story at all in under an hour. Credibility may take a little longer. I guess, at a stretch, I can give you forty-eight. Oh, you should have said that before--that's a piece of cake. She pursed her lips. You need the story to be as watertight and as robust as possible. Yes, but you bucuresti can't mention Faber in it directly. Didn't you tell me before that you can't print anything that would prejudice a jury? Ingrid was beginning to wonder at the wisdom of her plan. It could all crumble to nothing so easily. I don't want anything to jeopardize the success of the operation. So... big exclusive story about Faber on the front page. Tate raised her hands in the air, cigarette burning between her fingers, to mime the front cover. The other stuff on pages four and five. We're just suggesting a link between the two because of their proximity within the paper. Ingrid nodded. I need you to invent a story that will cast suion on Faber. Make people doubt her. You think you can do it? Do you want a story about an actual terrorist organization? I can't just make one up? Nope--it all has to be real. An imobiliare bucuresti extremist group at the very least, with terrorist tendencies. My God you don't want much. It'll imobiliare bucuresti take quite a bit of research. Tate stubbed out the final quarter inch of her cigarette. Apparently you have a willing librarian who loves that kind of stuff. Just to be clear, you do know what you're asking me to do is http://acontimo.ro/ highly... immoral at best, downright illegal at worst? I can't comment on matters of legality, I'm not familiar enough with English law. Bull. . OK--I'm telling you, it's as bent as a nine-bob note. I don't even know what that is. Let me tell you what it means. Tate produced her silver flask from a hidden pocket like a conjurer. If I pull this off for you--and I'm confident I can--you'll owe me big time. Not just one favor, but a whole series of them. Agreed? Ingrid narrowed her eyes. Depending