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"
I
think
I
’
d
rather
gamble
.
"
"
Give
me
that
fucking
bottle
.
If
you
’
re
not
going
to
take
this
seriously
,
nor
am
I
.
Fuck
it
,
you
might
even
get
torched
out
there
and
solve
the
problem
for
us
.
"
"
Thanks
.
"
I
passed
him
the
bottle
and
watched
as
he
decanted
two
careful
fingers
.
Jimmy
de
Soto
had
always
said
it
was
sacrilege
to
sink
more
than
five
fingers
of
single
malt
on
any
one
occasion
.
After
that
,
he
maintained
,
you
might
as
well
be
drinking
blended
.
I
had
a
feeling
that
we
were
going
to
profane
that
particular
article
of
faith
tonight
.
I
raised
my
glass
.
"
To
unity
of
purpose
.
"
"
Yeah
,
and
an
end
to
drinking
alone
.
"
The
hangover
was
still
with
me
nearly
a
full
day
later
as
I
watched
him
leave
on
one
of
the
hotel
monitors
.
He
stepped
out
onto
the
pavement
and
waited
while
the
long
,
polished
limousine
settled
to
the
kerb
As
the
kerbside
door
hinged
up
,
I
caught
a
brief
glimpse
of
Miriam
Bancroft
’
s
profile
within
.
Then
he
was
climbing
in
and
the
door
swung
smoothly
back
down
to
cover
them
both
.
The
limousine
trembled
along
its
length
and
lifted
away
.
I
dry
-
swallowed
more
painkillers
,
gave
it
ten
minutes
and
then
went
up
to
the
roof
to
wait
for
Ortega
.