yanked out his wallet.
‘I can nose around.’
‘You do that,’ said Mack.
Campo holds out a filthy hand.
‘Information first, then you’ll get your money,’ laughs Mack, snapping the wallet shut and sliding it into his back pocket.
Mack starts walking back to the car; he kicks a few drunks just for the hell of it.
‘Bloody coppers,’ mumbles Campo.
I’m now running really late for Connie. I’ve given her a quick call to tell her that I’ll meet her straight at the restaurant. She doesn’t sound too amused if you know what I mean; what is it about women and punctuality? I take a quick shower and grab some clean clothes from my locker. Nothing too fancy mind; I can’t abide men who have the need to wear designer gear, and primp and preen.
Driving along, the cases keep churning over and over in my mind. What’s the connection? Is there a connection? No matter how hard I tried I just can’t come up with one, but I know one has to be there somewhere. Is it two different killers? Probably, but I have to keep my options open, what if it is just the one? What bothers me is how the killers are getting in. Both victims lived in a flat, which meant coming in through an open window at height – unlikely, and someone would’ve spotted them. Neither of the doors had been broken, so the victims must have let their killer in. Was it someone that they both knew? But then, neither of them had any links to the other. Still, it was worth considering. Could it have been a fake ID, the electricity guy, the phone company? But the canvasses showed up that no one else had been pestered at any of the other doors – so it wasn’t random. So why pick these two? Perhaps Mack was right, just some nutters drugged up and looking for easy money. And yet…why pick on the poorer parts of town, why not try a nice suburban house? Unless… they lived on the same side of town also? I’d checked the bus routes and the tram routes, they didn’t connect, though that didn’t mean a damn thing and I knew it.
I pull into the parking lot of Leo’s, the best local steakhouse around. Connie’s car is already there – damn, that’s me minus ten points already. The place is swarming with people; the smell wafting near my nostrils is succulent mix of sizzling steaks on a red hot grill, creamy sauces with garlic and the scent of a good full-bodied red wine. I can hear my stomach begin to rumble. The juices start flowing in my mouth again, and suddenly I am hungry after all; never takes a man long does it? What’s the old adage about food being the way to a man’s heart? All true, every goddamn word.
She’s sitting by the window, at our favourite table. She looks almost ethereal, wearing a soft woollen dress the shade of pale ruby that brings out the hazel flecks in those eyes. Jesus, she looks stunning, jaw-dropping. Her hair is wavy tonight and as usual she’s wearing minimal make up. She doesn’t actually need to wear any. I gaze at her for a moment as she simply takes my breath away. How did I get so goddamn lucky? It isn’t the first time I’ve asked myself this, and I still haven’t come up with a reasonable answer.
I slide into the booth and note that she’s wearing the diamond earrings that I gave her for Christmas; they look striking on her, but then again pretty much anything looks good on her. Though right this minute I’d prefer it if we were home and naked in bed, devouring each other as only we know how.
‘Hey babe.’ I try my seductive smile.
‘You’re late.’ Not even a glimmer of a smile in return.
Obviously it hasn’t worked.
‘Sorry, had a bad day at the office.’
‘So I heard.’
‘Let’s just order.’ I pick up a menu, trying to distract her.
‘I already have.’
I can see the telltale signs of annoyance, the flickering of the eyes, her lush mouth pulled down into a harsh line. Christ, I’ve had enough for one day and I don’t need any more grief. I quickly give my order to the
‘I can nose around.’
‘You do that,’ said Mack.
Campo holds out a filthy hand.
‘Information first, then you’ll get your money,’ laughs Mack, snapping the wallet shut and sliding it into his back pocket.
Mack starts walking back to the car; he kicks a few drunks just for the hell of it.
‘Bloody coppers,’ mumbles Campo.
I’m now running really late for Connie. I’ve given her a quick call to tell her that I’ll meet her straight at the restaurant. She doesn’t sound too amused if you know what I mean; what is it about women and punctuality? I take a quick shower and grab some clean clothes from my locker. Nothing too fancy mind; I can’t abide men who have the need to wear designer gear, and primp and preen.
Driving along, the cases keep churning over and over in my mind. What’s the connection? Is there a connection? No matter how hard I tried I just can’t come up with one, but I know one has to be there somewhere. Is it two different killers? Probably, but I have to keep my options open, what if it is just the one? What bothers me is how the killers are getting in. Both victims lived in a flat, which meant coming in through an open window at height – unlikely, and someone would’ve spotted them. Neither of the doors had been broken, so the victims must have let their killer in. Was it someone that they both knew? But then, neither of them had any links to the other. Still, it was worth considering. Could it have been a fake ID, the electricity guy, the phone company? But the canvasses showed up that no one else had been pestered at any of the other doors – so it wasn’t random. So why pick these two? Perhaps Mack was right, just some nutters drugged up and looking for easy money. And yet…why pick on the poorer parts of town, why not try a nice suburban house? Unless… they lived on the same side of town also? I’d checked the bus routes and the tram routes, they didn’t connect, though that didn’t mean a damn thing and I knew it.
I pull into the parking lot of Leo’s, the best local steakhouse around. Connie’s car is already there – damn, that’s me minus ten points already. The place is swarming with people; the smell wafting near my nostrils is succulent mix of sizzling steaks on a red hot grill, creamy sauces with garlic and the scent of a good full-bodied red wine. I can hear my stomach begin to rumble. The juices start flowing in my mouth again, and suddenly I am hungry after all; never takes a man long does it? What’s the old adage about food being the way to a man’s heart? All true, every goddamn word.
She’s sitting by the window, at our favourite table. She looks almost ethereal, wearing a soft woollen dress the shade of pale ruby that brings out the hazel flecks in those eyes. Jesus, she looks stunning, jaw-dropping. Her hair is wavy tonight and as usual she’s wearing minimal make up. She doesn’t actually need to wear any. I gaze at her for a moment as she simply takes my breath away. How did I get so goddamn lucky? It isn’t the first time I’ve asked myself this, and I still haven’t come up with a reasonable answer.
I slide into the booth and note that she’s wearing the diamond earrings that I gave her for Christmas; they look striking on her, but then again pretty much anything looks good on her. Though right this minute I’d prefer it if we were home and naked in bed, devouring each other as only we know how.
‘Hey babe.’ I try my seductive smile.
‘You’re late.’ Not even a glimmer of a smile in return.
Obviously it hasn’t worked.
‘Sorry, had a bad day at the office.’
‘So I heard.’
‘Let’s just order.’ I pick up a menu, trying to distract her.
‘I already have.’
I can see the telltale signs of annoyance, the flickering of the eyes, her lush mouth pulled down into a harsh line. Christ, I’ve had enough for one day and I don’t need any more grief. I quickly give my order to the
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