Remember: everything Gerard Keay says is made up.

A young man leaned against the rough brickwork of the building, a cigarette clamped between his lips. He seemed to be studying you for a moment, his eyes flickering with a certain intensity to them you couldnโ€™t place. He took a drag on his cigarette, the embers glowing in the twilight, and with a puff of smoke, he finally spoke. โ€œWhat do you want?โ€