Richard

I turn the wheel, swing through the gates. “I know that it’s only an illusion, but it feels good to get back to something like normal life, doesn’t it. Just doing a day’s work. Driving home.”

Gravel crunches under the tires as we pull up. James clicks his tongue. “You’re not wrong there.” He rubs a forefinger over the top of his nose. “I’ll admit, I was worried about the effect the business with Klempner was going to have on Charlotte. All the forward progress the three of us made since we first met. It was feeling as though everything was going to be blown out of the water… Ahhh… Michael must be there ahead of us. The lights are on.”

“He’s left the door standing open too,” says James. “It’ll be letting the weather right through the house. Might as well not bother with the damn heating.”

We step inside. James closes the door behind us with a bang. As it slams, a voice drifts down the hall.

“James, is that you?”

Together, we halt in mid-stride. “That wasn’t Michael’s voice,” I say.

“It sounded like Stanton,” mutters James. “What the hell would he be doing here with no-one else around?”

I mutter back. “Good question.” Then more loudly, “Will? Is that you? Where are you?”

“Richard? I’m in the lounge.” There’s a touch of panic in his voice. “And hurry the fuck up, will you.”

What the hell?

James and I exchange glances. Setting briefcases on the hall table, we enter the lounge together…

… to find Will pressed back into the far corner of the room.

My old friend stands, bolt upright, arms folded up and well out of the way, head pulled back. His eyes are rimmed white against the coffee of his skin. To one side, he’s hemmed in by a dresser. To the other, a table blocks his exit. His face lights up as we enter. The reason for the odd posture lies close by his feet.

Head resting on outstretched paws, apparently relaxed, Bear is doing his best impression of a fur rug, if rugs emanated a low continuous rumble, something along the lines of distant thunder.

Will shifts and the rumble grows louder, the thunderstorm rolling overhead. A ridge of fur rises between Bear’s shoulders and Will freezes once more. “Can you call your dog off, please.”

James’ face cracks. He spins, sucking in his cheeks, then straightens his face and turns back. “Bear…” He snaps his fingers. “C’mon Bear. It’s fine.”

The huge dog swings his head around, looking over one shoulder, disbelief radiating from every hair.

James strides forward, scratches him behind the ears. “It’s alright, Bear. C’mon, Good boy. The Two-Legs have come home now. You’re off-duty.”

Bear rumbles another low threat towards our police commissioner, then slowly, reluctantly, stands and pads away. Flopping down by the hearth, he angles himself to watch the intruder.

Will straightens up, tugs down his jacket. “That’s one helluvan animal you’ve got there. Could be viewed as dangerous.”

cocks a brow. “Did he do you

but he wasn’t going to

just doing his job, wasn’t he. Keeping the intruder under control

you’re the pack

fact, no. From Bear’s point of view, I’d say that’s Klempner. But since

“It’s Klempner I’m

“The information he requested?”

baleful glare, then lays a file on the table, pulling out a variety of documents. “Could you call Hickman in, please.

I’ll call him.” James takes out his

did he mean?

at least, Hickman has, and he was the point of

not been in touch with

“No.”

say it, but I find

*****

in, all nonchalance. He nods politely. “Commissioner? You

do. Is it still the case that

face falls. “I’m afraid

what I have

employer requested. All the men in the photos you provided except two are known criminals. However…” He stabs a finger down on

speaks,

well-known to the Brazilian authorities and the only reason he is still breathing free air is that whenever any attempt has been made to arrest him and to get him… and those he works with… into court… witnesses dry up, die or simply disappear. As do

justice system is slow, bureaucratic and… let us say, unpredictable… Thus far, all attempts to bring this man and his cohorts to justice have been unsuccessful.” He sucks air between his teeth. “Much as it pains me to say this,

exactly is Santos wanted for?” I

shoulders, blowing air. “Klempner’s picked out the group through Racketeering and Protection, but Santos is also involved in Vice and Trafficking. Given that

are

that would be next. Now comes the interesting part. Brazil as a whole has a historical problem with crime, corruption and all that goes with it. In the thirty

other hand, São Paulo specifically, had been doing rather well with its clean-up operation for the previous ten or twenty years. Violent crime had dropped dramatically and the homicide rate, in particular, plummeted from a high of

form of rivals gangs competing for the opportunities available in the country. Usually, they were headed by men who had been long-term career criminals and simply slipped the justice net over

dozen such gangs…” He rocks his hand

over the numbers?”

of the smaller groups amalgamated through the gang leader

and

as you say, interesting,” says Michael, “but what

“Bear with me. I should say by the way, that my

coming around to our Juliana’s involvement somewhere? She’s been

resulted from an explosive device placed in a family restaurant. As well

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