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Jim yawned hugely and rubbed his eyes, which threatened to close and remain that way, before he picked up the large Starbucks cup that sat in front of him. As he sipped from it, and returned his attention to the bank across the road, he wondered why he hadn’t gone to bed earlier, he could have done with the extra sleep – it wasn’t particularly early, the bank’s door had been unlocked an hour before, on the dot of 9 a.m., but it had been 4 a.m. when he crawled between the sheets.
After about five minutes of careful observation, during which he tried to avoid being too obvious, lest he be suspected of planning a bank robbery, or something equally as ridiculous, he saw Owen Keating enter the bank. That was what he had been waiting for, and he forgot all about his coffee, and about cautio
