Ferrari lifted his eyebrows.
“Of course. It’s my job to handle it.”
Maurer’s eyes snapped, but his face remained impassive.
“I’ll pay ten grand.”
Ferrari shook his head.
“Twenty. If it was worth only ten grand you’d be able to do it yourself.”
Maurer shrugged.
“Okay, I don’t haggle. Twenty, then. What makes you so sure you can handle it?”
“I’ve never failed, and I don’t intend to fail now,” Ferrari said. “You look for difficulties, I look for solutions.”
“It’s got to look like an accident.”