Hot Revenge Box Set 4

Klempner

Damn phone…

What’s wrong with the fucking thing?

I tap in again. Nothing happens.

I’m several floors up, heading back for my hotel room. The signal should be strong up here.

I inspect the screen…

Yes… plenty of signal…

Better contact Dakho… Get him to supply a new one…

A more reliable model this time…

Arriving at my room door…

… A brief shufti along the corridor…

… I’m alone. A quick inspection that my slicked-on hair is still in place…

… It is… a faint dark line against the white paint, which peels away, then drops to the floor as I slide the card into the lock and push the door open…

I toss the useless phone onto my bed then start to shrug off my jacket…

… and in mid-movement, I stall.

My spine prickles and without meaning to, I’m standing stock-still, Glock in hand, staring around the apartment.

What’s wrong?

Working on automatic, my hand follows my eye, weapon aimed, but…

I don’t see anything.

Nothing has moved.

Nothing has changed.

a vase of lilies and wafting honeyed air

carpet still lies in vacuumed stripes, with only my

Really?

press my foot down by one of

on the balcony, folded up on the table, alongside my breakfast tray. And the balcony is small, with nowhere

I cross the floor, turn the handle of the bedroom door.

bed made, and beside the pillows, a pair of bath-towels folded, for some inexplicable reason, into the

they do

and coffee kit, biscuits,

one hand, with the other, at arm’s length, I flick open

while shirts garishly printed with pineapples and palm trees might be an offence to

Only one place left…

the door of

statue-still for a long second… ear cocked… gun at the

to no more than the mixed warbles and screeches of birds,

the door and it bangs open, bouncing on its

inside, there’s nothing more alarming than a tidemark around the bath where I’ve washed away the sweat

alarms are

What triggered it?

metallic and my heart plays

Calm down…

Breathe…

Think…

What happened?

barely in the

Outside then…

Something in the corridor…

to aim the gun-barrel at the ceiling, I dart a look outside. The corridor is still empty; nothing to indicate anyone has