CHAPTER 27
‘Where to, mate?’
‘Twenty-four Hill Street New Farm, thanks.’
The taxi driver did a U-turn with a screech of tyres and headed in the direction of Gympie Road. Despite the cab being air-conditioned, there was a huge sweat stain across the back of his white shirt. He reeked of onions and cigarette smoke.
‘Had a good Christmas, mate?’
‘Yeah, fine.’
It’s not over yet. Maybe the next few hours will be an improvement. Who was he kidding? Even Thommo hadn’t been too pleased to hear from him. Reuben had been just about to hang up when Thommo snapped, ‘Yes?’
He sounded out of breath.
‘It’s Reuben. I’ve got a favour to ask.’
‘Bloody hell, mate can’t it wait? This is not a good time.’
‘Sorry, I hate to do this to you on Christmas Day ... Merry Christmas, by the way.’
‘That’s not
