Cold Comfort: A Steamy Mafia Revenge Thriller

By Simone Leigh

In Hiding

The women and children of the family have been sent into hiding, leaving Klempner, James and Michael to mount a defence against de Palo.

Hickman is making his own moves to move Katya and his family to a place of safety.

But are 'The Women' likely to accept being sidelined 'for their own safety'?

And meanwhile, de Palo has found another hostage.

A Steamy Mafia Revenge Thriller

 Approx 35,500 Words

• Language: English
• Publisher: Simone Leigh Publishing
• Release date: Aug 30, 2023

Book preview

Chapter One - James

On the garden terrace of Caproni’s mansion, Klempner speaks slowly, all the while watching Isabella, not Caproni. "If you’re asking me, he says, I think that… If someone truly wants Redemption… for wrongs committed in the past… and is willing to pay the price to earn it, they should have the opportunity."

He moves to Isabella, tilting her chin up with a finger, to meet her face with his. "How brave can you be, Isabella? You told me you were scared to face the world with nothing. This could be a lot harder and more dangerous than that."

I want to help, she whispers.

My mouth overtakes my common sense. Perhaps you should let her.

Caproni reddens. Bullies up to me. "Are you serious? Would you let your daughter do something like this?"

I tiptoe through words like land mines. If your daughter has the courage to take the risk and is willing to do so, then perhaps…

A phone rings. Caproni looks up, his glance darting around the room. So do I. After a moment, sheepishly, I realise it’s my own cell, ringing from my pocket.

Ah!

Relieved, I hold up a finger, tapping in. Sorry, give me a minute, would you. It’s Borje. I need to take this.

My daughter’s partner sounds puzzled. … I just got your message. What’s this about?

Borje! Did you get my message to Georgie…?

*****

Chapter Two - Borje

I detest court rooms. Unfortunately, in my profession, it’s part of the package. Any pathologist spends time giving evidence at hearings and trials. But today…

Three hours…

Three fucking hours…

All spent arguing with some asshole defence lawyer over exactly how the victim came to have his skull caved in is enough.…

Doctor Anderssen, isn’t it the case that the injuries sustained by the deceased could have been the result of her fall down the stairs?

The blood spatter pattern conflicts with that. She sustained the injuries to her skull before she fell. In addition, the damage to the skull and the resulting trauma is consistent with impact from a heavy object such as a hammer or a tire iron.

She could have hit her skull against the edges of the steps. That is a possibility. Wouldn’t you agree?

The steps were carpeted...

… and your reptile of a client has a fifteen-year history of drunkenness and violence. And has served two prison terms for assault.

But of course, it’s not part of my remit to make that comment.

Still…

Done for the day…

The evening stretches ahead of me. The spring weather is pleasant, and I’d prefer to be out and doing something rather than going straight home.

Georgie…

Maybe she’d like to go out for the evening?

Drink and a meal?

Or maybe we could take a look around one of the big furniture and decor stores? See what might work on the house we’ll be moving into at the end of the month.

Yeah…

She’d like that…

Grinning to myself as I amble to the parking lot, I fish the cell from my jacket pocket, press the ON switch and wait for the minute or so it takes to boot up…

… then I tap Georgie’s contact.

Hi. Georgie Alexanders here. Sorry, but I’m not available to talk to you right now…

Damn!

I wait for the beep, then, Hi, it’s me. Sorry to be calling so late. What should have been an hour’s hearing took three. Anyway, I thought we might go out for the evening. If you want, we could call by Wetherall’s Furniture to check out if that dining table you liked has come back into stock. Call me back as soon as you get this.

There’s no reply from the landline at home either, but I don’t bother with a message. If Georgie’s on her way back from work, I’ll be home before she is.

It’s only a five-minute stroll to the car and as I unlock, she’s not returned my call.

Go home?

She could call back any time…

My hands resting on the wheel, I haver for a few seconds then…

Take a few minutes…

Check my messages…

I tap again.

You have three messages. Press One to hear the first message…

"Borje, it’s James here. I need to speak to Georgie urgently. Could you let her know that I’m going to be away for a while, the house is standing empty and not to visit us. Please spell that out to her. Don’t come to the house."

?

What the hell?

Press One to reply. Press Two to listen to the next mess…

One.

Two rings... Three rings… And the line connects.

James. Borje. I just got your message. What’s this about?

Relief floods his voice, then urgency. Borje! Did you get my message to Georgie?

The message not to visit your house? No, I didn’t. I’ve only just come out from court and turned my phone on. I’ve not managed to contact her yet… Then I hold the cell away from my ear at the stream of cursing. "James… James? James! What‘s going on? What’s the problem?"

"Borje, we have to get hold of Georgie. It’s important that she doesn’t go to the house."

The urgency in his voice seeps through. Why? What…?

Shut up and listen. It’s complicated and I can’t explain fully like this, but our family is under attack from a mafia mobster. We’ve evacuated…

Mafia?

Mobster?

James rattles on, but I’m not really listening. Instead, I simply yell… I’ll call you back. … then jab the phone again. The university library office. It rings.

Come on…

… and rings…

Come on…

I check my watch. Five thirty-five.

… and rings…

And connects. Hello. City University Library. How may I help you?

Hi, Sheila. It’s Borje. Georgie’s partner. Is she still there?

Oh, hi, Borje. Sheila’s voice, cute, high and smiley, always irritates me. No sorry. She took a couple of personal hours. Finished just after three.

Did she say where she was going?

Sorry, no… Oh, hang on. I think she said something about going riding later.

Later? This evening?

She didn’t say… I can hear the shrug in the off-hand reply. … Sorry.

Cutting the connection, I toss the useless, fucking useless phone onto the passenger seat.

Wrenching the ignition key clockwise, I squeal through a rubber-burning three-point turn, floor the gas out of the lot, and head into the stream of traffic.

Would she go straight to James’ place?

Or home first? Change her clothes maybe?

James’ house… Over an hour…

My apartment. Ten minutes.

*****

Chapter Three - Georgie

It’s a lovely spot, this place by my father’s house, overlooking the long view down the mountain meadow. Nonetheless, I’m increasingly uncomfortable in the presence of this stranger, with his questions about Larry and Hickman. And my father.

His lips stretch, displaying his teeth. Sounds like you know a lot of interesting people, Georgie. He strolls a little closer. Perhaps you could tell me more. What do you know about Hickman?

Um… not much. I barely know him.

Well… His smile widens further. … just tell me what you can. You’d be doing me a favour. I’ve been trying to find Hickman. We’re old friends. But we lost contact. He moves closer still. Perhaps you have an address for him?

A favour? I’m sorry, but I don’t know you. I can’t go talking about people to complete strangers. And besides, I don’t know his address.

He’s almost face to face with me now. Well, how about Larry then? What can you tell me about him? He touches my arm, as though accidentally. Is Larry a friend of yours?

I suppose so. Thoroughly unsettled now, I back away, trying to reclaim my personal space. The stranger follows. Why are you asking me all this? I don’t know you. You’ve not even told me your name.

He clucks. My apologies. How ill-mannered of me. I’m Frankie. Frankie de Palo. I’m very pleased to meet you, Georgie. I’m sure we’re going to be friends too. You can come with me now. And you can tell me everything you know about your friend Larry. And you can tell me how he became good friends with your father.

I’m not coming with you. I’m backing away, but he follows, nodding left and right to something behind me. Barely before I register the two men behind me, they grab me by the arms and hustle me away.

*****

A car I don’t recognise is parked at the front of the house. Jostling me into the back, I’m sandwiched between de Palo and another man. I gulp and swallow. "Let me out. I demand that you let me out."

The heavy-set man to my left huffs contempt. De Palo seems merely amused. "You believe you’re in a position to demand, Georgie? I have no particular wish to harm you, but your position could be made very uncomfortable. I suggest you tone down your demands."

I duck my head, fighting the panic, then breathe deep. "Where are you taking me? I don’t know where you would find Hickman."

You might know more than you think you do, Georgie, he smirks. And it’s clear you and your father know Larry Klempner. Meanwhile… He makes some gesture to the third man, standing by the side of the car, jerking a look toward the back. Moving, the man opens the trunk, taking something out and passing it to de Palo.

Floppy, black fabric…

A tee-shirt?

But as he opens it up, I scream as he drags the hood over my head. Fabio, tie her hands, says de Palo, then sit in the front.

As the seat to the side of me vacates, a hand pushes me flat and down, then grabs my wrists together. Something smooth and cool and narrow slips around, then yanks tight.

*****

Chapter Four - James

I’ve blathered on for a good minute before it dawns on me that Borje is no longer on the end of the line.

Still, at least he’ll get the message to her.

Caproni gives me a look that wavers between sympathy and irony. "So, James, repeating my question, would you allow your daughter to get involved in something like this?"

Heat flushes up my neck, but there’s a chill in my stomach. I take your point. My apologies.

He slaps me on the arm. Accepted, but unnecessary. I entirely understand. This Borje, he’s your daughter’s partner? And he’s in the City somewhere?

Yes, and I assume so. They share his apartment there.

Good. If he’s on the spot, he will undoubtedly track her down faster than we can here. Now, since we’re all together, Klempner, update me on what’s happening with Hickman.

He’s… Klempner’s mouth opens, then shuts again as once more, a phone rings. He flashes annoyance, shooting a look to Michael who, wincing, reaches for a pocket, retrieving his mobile.

Holding up