The stairwell was quiet and empty. Good, no one would hear his conversation. Nevertheless, he will still have to carry it out quietly. Who knows when some witness will accidentally appear - a neighbor from upstairs or downstairs going out shopping or to work... These were not ideal conditions for a conversation with a blackmailer, but he had no choice. He didn't make the rules of this game. Not yet.
"What do you want?" Paxton answered the phone without even trying to pretend to be polite. Courtesy was reserved for people he respected, not fucking blackmailers.
"Money, of course," came the not-so-surprising reply.
Steve knew the male voice from somewhere, but couldn't identify it. All he knew was that it wasn't any of the teenagers working with Martin. Nor, of course, was it Don Alston. There was something odd about the voice, though, although the driver couldn't identify what it was.
