Hot Revenge Box Set 4

The meal goes smoothly enough, albeit with a lot of negotiating the rapids and under-currents of good manners and courtesy.

Beth’s pregnancy proves a safe topic of discussion, with none of the pitfalls and booby traps lying in wait if we talk about anything closer to home. Mitch is a star, repeatedly shifting the conversation back onto the imminent birth of Beth’s and Richard’s new son.

Later, in a quiet moment with Michael, “My apologies,” I say. “Tact isn’t one of Georgie’s virtues. It never was.”

His answering smile is wry. “Like father, like daughter.”

*****

Klempner

Two weeks and… nothing…

Not a whisper. Nothing I can find.

Sitting in the corner of Antonio’s, I’ve spent a pleasant afternoon, but frustration gnaws at me. Hickman reports that all is well, but…

Has Juliana given up?

?

Not fucking likely…

Antonio’s cafe has become somewhat of a routine. Misgivings nudge me, reminding me that I shouldn’t develop such habits…

… Making myself vulnerable…

But, with nothing to go on, what the hell else can I do?

On the other hand, there has to be some reason for the address to have been used in Finchby’s invoices.

Perhaps I just need to wait.

But what am I waiting for?

How long can I keep doing this?

Still, in the meantime, while I wait for my mystery to unravel, the old man is genuinely good company. And also, a mine of local information.

Finishing a cup of the excellent coffee, I consult a local guide, comparing my list of addresses to a local map, looking for some pattern, seeking inspiration…

Access to road…

Access to the ports…

Whereabouts of police stations…

end of town… the

Nothing hangs together.

nodding down to my empty coffee cup.

“Sim. Thank you.”

guide. “Senhor Hughes…” He stabs a finger at

I ‘can’t speak the

very bad. Many bad

ears prick. “Woman? Que tipo de bad men and

close by me. His voice lowers and he leans in close. “One time, since many years, this city….” He sweeps his arms out in circles all around… “…all bad place. Much…” He

violence,” I

“Sim, muita violência. Muito

I smoke an imaginary cigarette and again he nods. Then I mime injecting myself…

closer yet. “…And the womans para prostitutas.” He takes the book from me, closes it, then slaps it down on the table. “Bad place, Senhor. And bad men.” He wags a finger at me. “You

said bad woman too? A

looks down, then up again, nodding. “Prostitutes, sim.

bad woman. What

Fingers spread, he rocks his hand… “… Not so many. Bad men gone. Not like other

sounding deeply

Juliana…

What does she

at

try again. “The bad woman… A mulher má…

shrugs. “Ninguém sabe. Ela

mystery? What does she look

Again, that blank stare…

head… “Tall?” … Then lower… “Short? Alta? Baixo? Loiras?

he waves a forefinger at me, then at my city guide, repeating, “Bad place. Bad

Senhor Hughes? We have many artista famoso there. And we have parques…” He

fingers at places

of Brazilian newspapers, or at least, their English editions. I can read Portuguese, but

delving into the newspaper archives, I know what

in an experimental search term… Sao Paulo organised crime… Then as an afterthought, add,

screen blinks: 139,000, 000 results, starting with

Hmmm…

Narrow it down…

tap in another search. Names of criminal gangs

but some

Brazil’s largest gang is enticing recruits with a

Evolution of the Most Lethal Criminal