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…

to the poorer end of

Nothing hangs together.

down to

“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.

I ‘can’t speak the language’…

place very bad. Many bad

tipo de

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 falters then holds out two fingers making a Bang Bang gesture… “And much…” Invisible knife gripped in his hand, he mimes a

violence,” I

vigorously. “Sim, muita

nods. Then I mime

then slaps it down on the table. “Bad place, Senhor. And bad men.” He wags

woman too?

nodding. “Prostitutes, sim.

woman.

Fingers spread, he rocks his hand… “… Not so many. Bad men gone. Not like other cities. Since two years, bad men here again. And this woman is baddest. She is…” He splutters for a moment… “She same as prostitute. She has man. Then other man. And first

is sounding

Juliana…

woman, her name? What does she look

at me

woman… A mulher

“Ninguém sabe. Ela

mystery? What does

Again, that blank stare…

my head… “Tall?” … Then lower…

repeating, “Bad place. Bad people. You not go there. I show you nice place for nice English

the guide, riffling through. “You like o museu de arte, Senhor Hughes? We have many artista famoso

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

editions. I can read Portuguese, but it doesn’t come so naturally as reading in English. I spend more of my time interpreting

delving into the newspaper archives, I know what I’m

Sao Paulo organised crime… Then as an afterthought,

000 results, starting with

Hmmm…

Narrow it down…

in another search. Names of criminal gangs

time, but some

is

the Most Lethal Criminal

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