Page 119 of Taming Seraphine

“What for?” she snarls.

I walk to the sink at the corner of the room, attach a hose to the tap, and spray both the floor and Rochas with cold water. The man wakes up with a noisy jerk and rocks backward in the chair bolted to the floor.

“What the fuck?” Rochas screams, his head jerking to the side.

“What is this place?” she asks.

“An interrogation room the firm uses from time to time.” I keep hold of her shoulder until the water turns clear and disappears into a grate built into the concrete floor.

“Who are you?” His voice becomes shrill.

“Now, can I go?”

I turn off the water. “Remember to ask about Gabriel and Samson.”

She rushes forward and punches him hard across the face. His head snaps back with a guttural yell. Her second punch makes his nose gush with blood.

I grin, my chest swelling with pride. She’s a fast learner. Her technique has improved since last night with Julio Catania.

“Who are you?” he growls.

“I’m the one asking the questions,” she snaps. “Where’s Gabriel Capello?”

“Who?”

I shake my head. It’s always the same with these assholes. They play stupid until you really deliver the pain. I open the cupboards beside the sink to remove a toolbox and a roll of knives.

“Seraphine.” I lay them on a worktop.

“Thanks.” She leaves Rochas and studies the implements. “Do you have anything that runs on electricity?”

My mind skips to the story she once told me about the hair dryer in the bathtub, and l lean into her and say, “You will not fuck up my circuits.”

She shakes her head. “It’s nothing like that. What do you have?”

With a sigh, I open up a second cupboard, extract the power tools, and place them on the counter. Seraphine reaches for the drill, but I grab her wrist.

“What are you planning?” I ask.

“He just needs some encouragement,” she replies with a dainty shrug.

“Do you even know how to use a power drill?”

She studies it for several moments before pressing on the trigger and activating its motor. “Yes, but where’s the thingy?”

“The drill bit?”

“Yeah, that.”

If his screams are any indication, Rochas can tell Seraphine has never used a power tool in her life and that she doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing. He rocks back and forth on his seat, trying to break free, but his effort is futile.

“What do you want to know?” he yells. “I’ll tell you. I’ll give you anything. Just call off that bitch and her drill.”

I attach a 1/16 inch drill bit to the device and hand it back to Seraphine.

Rochas hyperventilates at the sight of Seraphine holding the drill. “You’re not even giving me a chance to talk.”

“Then talk,” she says, her voice cold.

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