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； all the same。 He might keep quiet for a day or a week； continuing to calculate the odds on various actions； but in the end two things … his belief in his connections and his inability to walk away from a situation where he saw himself as the loser would bine。 When that happened； he would spill his guts。 We had perhaps helped to save Melly Moores's life by taking John to her； and I wouldn't have changed that （〃not for all the tea in China；〃 as we used to say back in those days）； but in the end we were going to hit the canvas and the ref was going to count us out。 Short of murder； there was no way we could make Percy keep his end of the bargain； not once he was away from us and had started to get back what passed for his guts。
I took a little sidelong glance at Brutal and saw he knew this； too。 Which didn't surprise me。 There were no flies on Mrs。 Howell's boy Brutus； never had been。 He gave me a tiny shrug； just one shoulder lifting an inch and then dropping； but it was enough。 So what？ that shrug said。 What else is there； Paul？ We did what we had to do； and we did it the best we could。
Yes。 Results hadn't been half…bad； either。
Harry undid the last buckle on the straitjacket。 Grimacing with disgust and rage； Percy pawed it off and let it drop at his feet。 He wouldn't look at any of us； not directly。
〃Give me my gun and my baton；〃 he said。 I handed them over。 He dropped the gun into its holster and shoved the hickory stick into its custom loop。
