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…

of town… the red-light district…

Nothing hangs together.

materialises at my elbow, nodding down to my empty coffee cup. “Mais

“Sim. Thank you.”

my cup across the table, and he glances at my guide. “Senhor Hughes…” He stabs a finger at my page. “You

that I ‘can’t speak the language’…

Many bad men there. And

prick. “Woman? Que tipo de

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

I

“Sim, muita

I smoke an imaginary cigarette and again he nods.

takes the book from me, closes it, then slaps it down on the table. “Bad place, Senhor. And bad men.” He

bad woman too?

then up again, nodding. “Prostitutes, sim. But há sim

bad woman. What

People not die…” 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

is sounding

Juliana…

her name? What does she look

at

woman… A mulher má…

shrugs. “Ninguém sabe. Ela

does she

Again, that blank stare…

raising my hand to my head… “Tall?” …

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

up the guide, riffling through. “You like o museu de arte, Senhor Hughes? We have many artista famoso there. And we have parques…” He

jabs fingers at places where

or at least, their English editions. I can read Portuguese, but it doesn’t come so naturally as reading in English. I spend more of

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

search term… Sao Paulo organised crime…

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

Hmmm…

Narrow it down…

another search. Names of criminal gangs

results, this time, but some more

Brazil’s largest gang is enticing

the Most Lethal Criminal Organization