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Steve had called him yesterday, outlined what he needed. Just a bit of info, Tony, tell a few white lies. ‘Like a spy?’ Tony had asked, and Steve had said, ‘Well, no, not really, just a friendly chat, see what you can see’, and Tony had said, ‘That sounds a lot like a spy to me’, and Steve had said, ‘Look, mate, would it make you happier if I said you were a spy?’, and Tony had said, ‘Me? No? No skin off my nose, I’m just saying, call it what it is’, and Steve had said, ‘Okay, you’re a spy’, and Tony had sucked his teeth and given it some thought and said, ‘Okay, I’ll do it, for you, mate. I’ll spy.’ Then they’d talked about the weather in St Lucia for a bit, too hot, but Tony could have told him that, and how Amy was, she’s very well, and what Rosie D’Antonio was like. ‘Very much her own woman’, apparently
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