Dealing in Undertown
The White Queen thought of the Schoolboy as a brainless pugilist, a bully in blazer and tie, but she couldn’t ignore him. He owned half the North Side. A problem, because he’d taken most of it from her.
She didn’t have the muscle to go straight at him – he’d broken the very stone of that last rook – so here she was, in Undertown, with Mister Quick.
“No one can know I’m involved.”
“They won’t.” Quick’s voice was low and sweet, like a cello.
As she left, he winked at her, grinning a slow grin. It crept across her like frost.