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Rush them at this stage. But when they're ready, they'll agree to go to the police? Christ! I haven't mentioned the police to them at this stage. That'd totally freak them out. But I'm running out of time. Lauren Shelbourne's body is due to be repatriated in a few days. Sorry--I can't help with that. Besides, my sources are definitely not going to the police before the paper has run an exclusive exposing Younger for the nasty he is. 34 Ingrid's attempt the day before to persuade Angela Tate to reveal the names of her sources failed completely. The journalist started to talk about the special trust she'd built up with them, how she couldn't risk getting anyone else involved. We're taking baby steps at the moment. I can't have you spooking them. So Ingrid had left Tate in the café with nothing. No evidence to take to McKittrick, not even a new lead. All she could do was attempt to find sources of her own. But first she had business of a more personal nature to attend to. She was aning the meeting she'd arranged with one of her contacts to discuss her predecessor at the emby with something approaching dread. buy youtube views She had neither the mental energy nor the physical strength to deal with Nick Angelis' brand of banter. Nevertheless, fortified with a double espresso, she steeled herself for their encounter. For google ten minutes she watched their agreed meeting location before she saw Angelis arrive. He was fifteen minutes early, clearly scoping out the area himself. She wondered if he'd been watching her waiting for him for the last half hour. Ingrid had met Angelis shortly after arriving in London. He worked for a private intelligence agency. He was ex-SAS and ex-MI6, and a trusted addition to the emby's army of intelligence consultants. Most of the time her job and his emby projects didn't overlap. And that was just the way she liked it. But right now he had information that she needed. At least she hoped he did. She hurried up the steps leading to the Golden Jubilee Bridge buy youtube views that spans the Thames between Waterloo in the south and Charing Cross to the north of youtube the river. You're losing your touch, my dear, Angelis told her as she approached. I've been watching you for the past thirty minutes. It was hardly covert surveillance. He grabbed her hand and planted a kiss on buy youtube views the back of it. Still, it's simply wonderful to see you. He stepped back and looked her up and down. You've lost weight. I'm not sure I like it. He smiled. Carrying a few injuries too, judging by your gait as you struggled up the stairs. Are you done? I could go on... Please. Don't. Always charming. I've missed you. I can't say the same. You're going to have to try a little harder than that. I thought you were after a favor. I might not be able to oblige if you're too beastly to me. Sometimes Angelis sounded like an actor from a British period drama. A lord with a country mansion and a habit of speaking down to the locals. But Ingrid knew for a fact he'd grown up in an unglamorous part of town, some place called Tottenham. His mom and dad had immigrated to the UK from Cyprus when the Turks invaded. A few years ago his brother had taken over the family restaurant in north London. Be nice to me, he said, his tone pleading. Is it too much to ask? Ingrid forced herself to take a calming breath. Angelis