Hot Revenge Box Set 4

Chapter 42

Klempner

My resources: The clothes I’m wearing. A notebook and the stub of a pencil: A book on herbal toxins. A small supply of sweet water. An infinite supply, for any practical purpose, of foul water, slime and garbage. And of course, one small potato.

I’d like to give in to despair. There’s something alluring about despair, something seductive. Perhaps I should simply not play Juliana’s game; let her kill me.

But if I’m dead…

Mitch…

My beautiful green-eyed Mitch.

So alive. So energetic.

So full of courage.

So vital.

Vitale

…

Stay alive...

So, eat the fucking potato…

I prise it out from its bed of sludge and slime with a slight sucking sound. It’s small; perhaps half the size of my fist. On the other hand, adhered muck aside, it seems sound; firm, mid-brown, no sprouts or green parts. I have a vague idea that I’ve read that green potatoes are unsafe to eat.

Hauling myself up from my concrete seat, lifting my chain in one hand, with the other, I hold my meal under the water inlet, thumbing away the dirt under the clean water.

Time to live…

And I bite in.

*****

With no warning, the light blinks on and without meaning to, I groan, hiding my eyes behind my hands.

concrete, then Juliana emerges from the darkness. “Good afternoon, Larry. How are you? I do hope

with a low cut neckline; designed to

a polite little smile, then sits, on her fold-up chair, hands neatly folded. She could be in school, waiting for a favourite teacher to begin the lesson. Or perhaps in the audience at some small town hall, for a talk on jam-making or how to grow dahlias. At least she could if Morticia Addams had ever joined

“What are

down at me while we talk. She watches me, a touch of wariness in her

arms, lean

to get

about? I’m guessing you have a selection of choice topics.” I pace a little, as much as

me a bright little smile.

Fake…

Extensions?

of it, Larry. You must look after yourself. Exercise. You won’t do well down here if you don’t move about more than I’ve seen you

Two days?

Is there anything you

I pause…

Seriously?

“How about a cup?”

or a tool? Finchby and Baxter were stupid, letting your little bitch daughter get hold of a glass bottle.

difficult to get a real drink

do with your time? Lick it off the wall if you

your concern for my

lost. You’re mine now

the police.

Harry Hughes isn't missing. What’s left of him has been found dead in his hotel suite after the explosion. And I made sure the police

My chest tightens…

“What clues?”

you to the spot.” She sighs, stroking a hand over her hair. “I suppose they might decide you were involved with the gangs. But I think it's more likely they'll say you got caught in the

“Either way, Larry, they’re not looking for you.

spins… “So… you rigged that explosion just so you could plant

you are, could I?

“Juliana…”

“Sola!” she snaps.

“How many have you murdered? There were scores of people caught in that explosion.

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