Hot Revenge Box Set 4

Klempner

The hottest part of the day… hot enough to have driven me indoors… In a coolish corner at Antonio’s, my back to the wall, I can sit behind my newspaper but see everything around me.

Scouring the daily papers for starting points and clues, then following through with my phone and tablet, my researches are yielding a clear picture of rival gangs, the growing power of organised crime in Sao Paulo and, threaded through it all, hints of where I might find my target.

Photos, references, events, are all building a picture.

A woman, clawing her way to the top, leaving a trail of male corpses behind her. The details vary: sometimes a shootout between rival gangs. Sometimes an ‘accident’, brake-failure. An overdose of cocaine crops up twice. One has died of some kind of poisoning, although there’s no details on what kind. Outright assassination, a bullet in the forehead seems almost too obvious for her methods.

Inconveniently, the newspapers fail to publish her home address.

I’ll find you…

Why aren’t the police on to you?

Or does she have the police in her pocket too? Some authority figure at least?

What isn’t clear to me yet is whether my target is Juliana herself or the entire criminal gang she’s currently tied up with.

I sip coffee, hoping for caffeine-powered inspiration.

She can’t be at the head of the gang. Any gang. It wouldn’t work like that. Not here. This is Latin America. Men don't answer to women down here. Too much of the macho culture. Women don’t get to the top.

Even Eva Perón worked through her man…

… Men…

Eva Perón…

There’s a pattern that fits perfectly with everything I know of Juliana.

The power behind the throne…

Find the man who can give you what you want. Get his attention. Pull his strings. Milk him

Then when you see a better option, move on.

How would a woman do that?

?

How did she

Eva Duarte... The slum girl

one-time First Lady of Argentina: a girl

hair, designer clothes and jewels. The smile is all blades and

wasn’t even that

look closely at

Mitch is genuinely beautiful. You could shear her hair, smear her face, dress her in a rag, and she would still be beautiful. Jenny’s the

the face of a rather ordinary girl who took the devil’s drive out of

Juliana…

she moves on, her

Food for thought.

my paper, scanning

rivalries cause mayhem. Leader

Assassination suspected…

Hmmm…

biro a circle

Another coffee?

Why not?

Brain food…

towards the door, his smile dissolving. Jaw set,

ego and too small a brain. He's a smooth-looking bastard, in an expensive suit, his hair slicked back and with the kind of sunglasses where someone’s paid for the designer name without noticing any improvement

silhouetted against the daylight, he strikes a

Thinks he’s something…

Fucking Wonder Boy…

waggles fingers at me, nodding me to stay in my seat, then raises a

gaze sweeps the room, passes to me, pauses, then moves on. A young

rapidly and quietly, his voice quavering. The old man is trying to inject confidence into his voice, but it’s not nearly convincing. The stranger murmurs a

the pair are talking at the breakneck speed of those speaking in their mother tongue. Still, while I can’t pick it all out, I

dinheiro não é devido até a próxima semana…”

with off-hand sarcasm. “Sola quer isso agora.” Sola wants it

Sola?

Who’s Sola? A gang-leader?

that one in any of

name on a corner of

Sr. Sola

Monteiro looms over Antonio. “Você

isso…” He prises open the lid of the tin, holding it out for inspection. “Veja…É

away a touch from his gut, fat has stolen the definition from