They parked the car a safe distance from the Brent address they’d been given and, pistols in pockets, walked quietly across the concrete parking lot. It was still night, with the promise of a morning chorus just beginning to insinuate itself, though it was yet to grow light. The street lights were erratic here, as much because of vandals as because the power company wasn’t always supplying juice. The local council was notoriously adept at misplacing public money, and not even street lighting could be taken for granted.