Leaning back in his chair, Lucas picked up the phone, making the call.
"Hello. Mr Bolton, it's your investigator. I have found what you were looking for." Lucas simply said, looking over at the file on the wooden desk, looking out the window as the man in his mid-40s responded. Edgar Bolton was a man that was another typical customer- a little paranoid, but with justification for that paranoia, in a way. 
"Shit, Lucas. My wife, she's doing it?" He said, a little tense, as Lucas knew they all were.
"I have a comprehensive report of your spouse's activities. See for yourself. It's not my concern to judge or do anything about it, I gather facts after all. Swing by my office, and we'll square up our business." Lucas said, calmly, a little tired even, but convincing over the phone.
"Thanks man. Can I come this evening?"
"Sure. Come in at around six to my office, I don't want this to take up too much time. Thank you very much, Mr Bolton." He simply said, as the man on the other end breathed a sigh of slightly angered relief, probably at his wife.
"Thanks, Mr Green. Goodbye." The man added, as Lucas put the phone down, looking out the window a little more. Sirens. Godknows what now. Maybe police going to the lab. Or the fire department clearing up the rubble. Either way, it was a mess.

Sitting up a little, he switched on his MP3 player, hooked up to a DAB radio of sorts. Flicking it on, some simple [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dW6SkvErFEE]Mumford and Sons [/url] was the next track on the playlist, something simple to ease his ears. Sitting back, he sorted out Edgar Bolton's files, everything in order for collection. To Trident, this was a bore. This was a sure fire fucking way to live a life, but not a way to just pay the bills. Lucas knew that of course, not all his income was legitimate. Against the Mafiya, he had made one or two cutbacks. Money that had so much so vanished from the system was in his hands. Stealing from thieves was brilliant, just awesome. Because they couldn't go to the cops about it, and that was a nice feeling. This wasn't regularity. And nor was it something he enjoyed. He took what he needed. To buy his car and bike, equipment, and anything specialized through Austin. The rest, this business payed, legitimately. 

Lucas finished with the brown folder, all photos, paperwork and invoices in order, before switching the MP3 player off. Walking back to the phone, the thought of Austin was one that he needed to just get to work on. Finding his number, he dialed it in, knowing that it went to his business mobile. Lucas was a good client of Austin's. A very good client. They worked mutually, but Lucas knew it was a need to know basis. Some favors there, for a little assistance there. Austin was good as a shooter, but on other fronts, he had many, many weaknesses. A family, that was one. Taking the phone again, he dialed. No specifics on a landline or mobile, but on a payphone or an encrypted device, such as through an online channel with an encryption would usually do the trick for better remote specifics. Some were permissible, but ones that would tell a would be assassin how to shoot dead Lucas would be too much.

The phone buzzed, till Lucas heard the other end catch.
"Hello, my friend. Meet me round your place of work, wait somewhere discreet near; I'll find you. We need to talk." Lucas simply said, waiting for a simple confirming response. They had things indeed, to talk about. Austin wasn't a shop, but if returns were anything to go by, he owed the fixer something.