The coffee strong and fragrant, washes away my doubts and clears my thinking, although granted, it leaves me with my problem.

How to find Juliana?

And what is the significance of the invoice addresses?

I let my mind freewheel, caffeine lubricating the gears.

What's the connection?

?

?

Back to basics...

Finchby’s invoices...

Taken from his own files…

Supply addresses from legitimate businesses…

… Listing women, children… Human cargo.

???

That can't possibly be what went through the customs checks...

Duplicate documents then?

Same references. Same monetary values. Different cargo.

That would seem logical: A parallel accounting system: one for the outside world, one for private records.

Yes, that works. Any competent criminal could make that work. And doubtless, with the money involved, they’d have accountants and bookkeepers… Perhaps even customs officers and tax inspectors on the payroll.

But none of that gives me the connection to Antonio’s bar or any of the others.

Why here?

Frustrated, mind spiralling inward…

Damn the coffee…

I order another

*****

Charlotte

by the nursery door, wearing the jeans and boots he uses for riding, and a thick cable-knit

the air. And the sunshine is that

down to my tiny daughter, blinking at the mobile rotating above her

from her rocking chair next to mine. “She’ll probably sleep

me five minutes, just

My Master takes the few steps to bring him close to me, then reaches down with a long finger, stroking Cara’s cheek. His face might seem impassive to any that didn’t know him, but I see the

*****

where he is checking Charlie’s girth. “All ready for you.” Straightening up, he runs over me with

roll-top pullover. “Two woollens, a cotton top and a thermal vest Mom insisted

lips twitch, then he stoops by Charlie, locking his hands into a cup. “C’mon, I’ll give you a leg

and snorting, eager to be off. My Master slaps him on the shoulder then runs a hand up his neck. “Shhhh… Calm down. We’re going now.” Oliver’s ears flick forward, but he settles long enough for my Master

might take the path through the top field then loop

“Great idea.”

*****

world. The ground is firm with the cold and Oliver is trying to take the bit. Head tossing, his gait dancing between a walk

run,” says my Master, then eyes Charlie, also performing, jarring under

the end of

finger. “Only to the fence.

final words are lost to the wind as I kick heels at Charlie, and she moves from trot

as her son begins to draw away, Charlie jolts under me with another burst of speed and as we reach the end of the field, Charlie and Oliver, mother and son, my Master

a maniac, panting, my blood racing. My Master’s eyes are soft. “It’s good to see you smiling properly at

Oliver and Charlie blow blue from their nostrils. “It’s

reaches out, lifting the long arm of the gate latch to let me through, clucks Oliver along

that will take us to the

I want to

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255