Page 162 of The Black Trilogy

“I drugged them first and stacked them around the back. Chainsaw was so engrossed in pay-per-view porn he didn’t notice they were missing.”

“Often the way, isn’t it?”

“Yep, stupidity always brings them down in the end. When I ambled into his living room, he pulled out the gun hidden under the sofa and took great delight in telling me everything he’d done to the poor girl he killed. Said he’d enjoy putting me out of my misery too, right before he did unmentionable things to my still-warm body.”

“Was he serious?”

“Oh, he pulled the trigger. Trouble was, I’d taken the bullets out half an hour earlier when he visited the john. The look on his face was priceless.”

“Wish I’d seen that.”

“You can watch if you want—it’s all on camera. Once I’d delivered him and his confession to the police station, I caught a late flight and got home by one. It should be an easy conviction. The idiot even told me where he hid the garrotte.”

“Another job off the list, then.”

“Easy money. Are you all set for this evening?”

Nick was flying to the UK with me as part of the police security exercise. Dan too, and I’d handpicked another eight guys from Richmond and New York plus ten from the London office. We had a briefing scheduled for nine the next morning.

“Sure am. I’ve just got a couple of calls to make and one meeting this afternoon. Speaking of which, I need a favour.”

“What kind of favour?” I owed Nick one. He’d done enough for me over the past few weeks.

“The meeting’s with Patrick Johnson at four. He wondered where you were for the last one, and you know how much he loves you to be there. Any chance you could come with me?”

Just what I needed—the delights of Mr. Johnson. We provided office security for his nationwide chain of insurance brokers, and he’d been a client almost since the beginning. Because of the amount of revenue he brought in, and that history, he always had his quarterly updates with one of the directors rather than a lowly account manager. As my husband initially landed the account, he’d usually taken the meetings, but now it seemed Nick had drawn the short straw.

And me. Not because I had particular expertise in the area of building security, or even because I knew anything about his account. No, Mr. Johnson liked me there because he was a pervert. In this age of laptops and light projectors, he still insisted on having a paper report. Then during the meeting, I’d have to sit next to him to turn the pages and point out the right figures.

Sounds straightforward? Not when the meeting overran because the old git kept getting distracted by looking down my top and “accidentally” brushing his hand against my leg. My husband had to repeat everything he said at least twice.

Far from being jealous, my darling husband thought it was hilarious, and we had a standing bet before each meeting over how many times I’d get groped. Each one scored a point. The person with the closest guess won, with the loser having to buy dinner that evening. I generally came out on top because by sitting next to Patrick, I had a bit of control over the situation. As a bonus, we’d charge Mr. Johnson an extra two hundred dollars for each point on his next quarterly bill, which more than paid for three courses. He’d never once questioned what these additional charges were, which was testament to how much attention he paid to figures of the numerical kind.

“Okay, Nicky,” I half grumbled. “You know the drill, right?”

“Yes, your mercenary husband explained it to me over beers once.”

“Good. My guess is thirty-seven points.”

“Sheesh, that’s high. Really? In a half-hour meeting? I’m gonna go with twenty-five. Surely he has to spend some time reading the report?”

I’d been playing this game a lot longer than Nick. “I want my steak rare and my wine expensive.”

While Nick talked on the phone, I deleted half of my emails, forwarded one from Miriam’s lawyer onto mine, and dealt with the rest. Sloane sashayed in with Mr. Johnson’s printed and bound reports at three. And a plate of biscuits. Guess which one I preferred?

“Shh, don’t tell Toby. You’re going to the Johnson meeting, I take it?” she said.

“Wish me luck.”

“You never need that. You’ll knock him dead.”

“I live in hope. He’s on medication for a heart condition, so you never know.” I made it my business to keep up to date on everything concerning my clients.

“Yeuuuch. You might have to give him mouth-to-mouth.”

“Good point. I’d rather lose the account than do that.”

“I’m finalising your schedule for the UK. I’ve tried to keep commitments to a minimum, but there’s a fundraising dinner for your foundation on the evening after the security exercise. The organisers want to know if you’ll be there?”

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