Hot Revenge Box Set 4

Chapter 46

Richard

My intercom buzzes.

“Yes, Francis?”

“Mr Haswell, I have the police commissioner on for you.”

“Put him through, please…” The phone clicks… “Richard?”

“Will, good to hear from you. What can I do for you? Do you have any news?”

“I do, Richard, yes. But it’s not good news I’m afraid.”

Damn…

“Go on.”

“I’ve emailed you a report from the authorities in Brazil. Briefly, there was an explosion in a hotel room in São Paulo; a booby-trapped lavatory would you believe. It took out several rooms and there were a lot of casualties. Two bodies were taken from the room. One was a member of the hotel staff. The other was a guest. The passport identifies him as one Harry Hughes: English. But take a look at the photograph and tell me what you think.”

My mouth sours…

Christ…

If it is…

“Can you hold, Will, while I pull up the email.”

“No problem. Take your time.”

Tap… Tap… Tap… Click…

Password…

Scroll…

Click…

Crap!

I breathe in. Let out air.

“Yes, that’s him. He’s clever with the hair and the glasses. It’s quite subtle and you wouldn’t see it on a casual glance, but that’s him…”

…

“Richard?”

…

do I tell

… Or Charlotte?

…

…

“Richard? Are you alright?”

Charlotte was abducted… And when he knew there was a threat

What a waste…

Would… would you like me to call by and tell Mitch myself? Give her

Or I’ll tell James and Michael, and get one of them

can do, you know where

“Thanks, Will.”

*****

in his office next door to

“James?”

bridge of his nose, eyes squeezing. “I feel terrible. This is

know that

the wedge to crack his defences. It’s almost

shouldn’t tell her. At least for a while. After the

tugs at his chin. “She’s already stressed out with waiting and hoping. Could this be worse? At least it’s closure and she knows what she’s dealing with. She’ll have all her family around

back into the house? So we can all keep a closer eye

we could make up her old

idea. Shall we go. Deliver the news face-to-face. I’ve already asked Francis to cancel appointments for

Eyes red-rimmed, he tugs his jacket straight. “You’re right.

*****

 

Klempner

for a few seconds. By the time I’m blinking back to normality, the click-click

with God-knows-what, and as usual, colour-co-ordinated to her outfit. “Good afternoon, Larry. How are

today; very gaudy, very Latin. The dress fits too tightly and the lipstick

do you wear

statement.” Her voice is

clasped around my legs, I do shift a little, moving my weight from one side to the other. I’ve almost ceased to notice the cold striking up from the concrete, but

today. The wig is black; much too dark for her complexion. Not that her complexion is visible, with her face plastered under a brown sludge that would be flattering

a potato at me. On auto-pilot, I catch the miserable thing mid-air before it hit the deck but, despite the clenching in

Lunch?

then appears to realise I’ve not moved. She nods down to the potato. “Go

Still, I don’t move.

“If you eat that one now and

bite from the potato, chewing slowly to convince my stomach it’s getting a

“Enjoying that?” she says.

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