At nine o’clock, Brodie parked behind the small fish market, watching for the same fishing boat he was expecting as it slid up to the quayside. As its catch was being lifted onto the harbour, he got out of the car and walked back to the paseo, taking care not to be seen at that point. Having reached the end of the pier, he about turned into full view of everyone there. He started to walk slowly back up the pier toward the small fishing boat. He stopped twice, turning to talk to regular customers; on the second meeting, he spotted his tail, the same man as before, duck quickly out of sight, two seconds too late. It didn’t take Brodie long to reach his target boat.
“Buenos dias, Pedro. I hope you had a good catch this morning.” Brodie recited the opening gambit he had been told to use by Ro
