I Was Afraid to Kill DuPont

A friend of mine had mentioned how amazing it was that his dealer was always able to know exactly what he was after without either of them saying a word. So I found where a lad DuPont made his handovers in Piccadilly Gardens and I started to watch. He was surprisingly brazen about it, sat there on a park bench for hours, smoking or reading some magazine or other. Then came the moment that fully convinced me that I had to kill DuPont. As he sat there on the bench two policemen walked past me heading towards him. They stopped just for a moment and he nodded gently. The policemen looked at each other, turned and walked away. That was all I needed