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…

to the poorer end of town… the red-light district…

Nothing hangs together.

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

“Sim. Thank you.”

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

bad men there. And

Que tipo de bad men and

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…

violence,” I say.

nods vigorously. “Sim, muita violência. Muito

I smoke an imaginary cigarette and again he nods. Then I mime injecting myself… “Cocaína…? E outras

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 no

said bad woman too?

again, nodding. “Prostitutes, sim. But há

woman. What she

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

sounding

Juliana…

What does she look

at me

woman… A mulher má…

“Ninguém sabe.

does she look

Again, that blank stare…

“Tall?” … Then lower… “Short?

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

the guide, riffling through. “You like o museu de arte, Senhor Hughes?

nodding as he jabs fingers at places where ‘Nice turista man

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

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

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

139,000, 000 results, starting with

Hmmm…

Narrow it down…

another search. Names of criminal

results, this time, but

gang is enticing recruits with

Evolution of the