Hot Revenge Box Set 4

Klempner

Over the next day or so, I visit a dozen establishments, all chosen for having been header addresses on invoices received, and apparently paid, by Finchby.

I find myself calling by two more bar-restaurants, a ladies’ shoe shop, a bookseller, a cut-price budget outlet, two fruit and veg stalls and a liquor store.

None of them seems even remotely likely as an export outlet for organised criminals. The only even slightly illegal behaviour I encounter comes from my last call: a jeweller.

By now, my doubts are sprouting. I’m almost out of options and I’ve found nothing that takes me any closer to tracking psycho-Juliana.

WTF’s going on here?

In the jewellery store, the proprietor skulks at the back. Then, seeing me browsing his stock, thinking I might find something for Mitch, he tries to pass off a locket, gold-plated but base metal, as the genuine article.

He cringes satisfactorily as my fingers grip his neck, squeezing just enough to cut off his air for a few seconds. I’m not serious about doing him any real harm, but I leave his store of over-priced crap whistling.

But still, my disquiet crawls…

What am I missing?

I arrived in Sao Paulo believing I had plenty of leads to track, as I first thought, Baxter, then his blood-besotted paramour, Juliana. But I’ve used up my leads and I’m rapidly running out of ideas.

Juliana’s still out there, shrieking for my blood. And she’s as likely as not to go looking for her own peculiar brand of vindictive entertainment with someone else connected if it’s not actually with me.

Mitch…

Jenny…

Think…

A quick check of my messages: a confirmation from Hickman that all’s well over there...

Wearing the ring?

A warm glow, having nothing to do with the weather, floods my chest and face.

What to do?

That’s how I

autopilot, letting the mind roam at

hand. Instead, letting my thoughts

woman in a city of

But nothing suggests itself.

looking around, coming to, I find I’m standing outside Antonio’s. The old man cracks a smile and hastily wipes down a tabletop before pulling out a chair and, brows raised, offering out

thinking, but nothing else

beams as I make my way to the table, then scuttles off, returning in under a minute with a glass jug, dripping

nibble, tossing the skin to a nearby pigeon Another swallow and I’m reflecting that the moist heat I enjoyed when I

thought I’d miss the northern

That mountain…

The

Be honest…

I’m missing Mitch.

it. My daughter… My granddaughter… The casual

Three husbands?

does Haswell

?

the hell do I judge

Mitch…

you

life with

open the mobile, into my images, download one

camera. I prefer taking the time to see the

one is

at me. I don’t think she knew I was taking the photo. Indeed, I made a show of simply fiddling with my phone, looking

glorious eyes… Greener than any gem I could give her.

lose myself in

on the table. His eyes crease, if it were possible, even more. “Very beautiful lady,

the phone closed, but his words warm me

“Lady here? Sao Paulo?”

not here.

go home to lady