James turned the open and closed sign on the front door of the Shoals to the ‘Open’ position, giving one of the tables at the front of the restaurant a very professional and very accurate flick with a tea–towel, and removing a crumb of forgotten batter. The fryers had all heated up nicely and neat rows of fish wearing crisp golden overcoats were lying down, waiting to be eaten. James heard that some of the others were up early too, speaking to their underworld contacts and private bankers in the back rooms, moving money around and planning shipments from Turkey and Montenegro of arms and drugs. The drugs bring everyone that uses them misery, and the guns bring the pushers power to order more and more misery for the users to enjoy. The stylishly designed retro–tinkle bell over the door ping
