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…

the poorer end of town…

Nothing hangs together.

elbow, nodding down to my

“Sim. Thank you.”

cup across the table, and he glances at my guide. “Senhor Hughes…” He stabs a finger at my page. “You not go this place. Is bad

Then, remembering that I ‘can’t speak the

bad

“Woman? Que tipo de bad

chair across to sit 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

I say. “Much

He nods vigorously. “Sim,

imaginary cigarette and again he nods.

womans para prostitutas.” He takes the book from me, closes it, then slaps it down on the table. “Bad

bad woman too? A

up again, nodding. “Prostitutes, sim. But

bad woman.

Bad men gone. Not like other cities. Since two years, bad men here again. And this woman is baddest. She is…” He splutters

is sounding deeply

Juliana…

woman, her name? What does she look

at

“The bad woman… A mulher má…

upheld, he shrugs. “Ninguém sabe.

mystery? What does she

Again, that blank stare…

my hand to my head… “Tall?” … Then lower… “Short? Alta?

a forefinger at me, then at my city guide, repeating, “Bad place. Bad people. You not go there. I show you nice place for nice English

like o museu de arte, Senhor Hughes? We have many artista famoso there. And we have parques…” He nods vigorously… “…muito

as he jabs fingers at places where ‘Nice turista man is safe.’ But my mind’s

up for subscriptions on a variety of Brazilian newspapers, or at least, their English editions. I can read Portuguese, but

archives, I

Sao Paulo organised crime…

blinks: 139,000, 000 results, starting with a Wikipedia

Hmmm…

Narrow it down…

another search. Names of criminal gangs sao

this time, but some more

largest gang is enticing

of the Most Lethal Criminal Organization

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