‘Oh, peste, you make me late!’ She glared up at Roding. I want to make myself visible to you. I would be the kidnapper, of course, but we would forge ransom notes and exchange monies so that it appeared you were taken by brigands or plotters against the Iovelli family. ‘We?’ Gerald smiled. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. She felt her forehead repeatedly break out in a light sweat. But underneath this tolerance there is always the vague hope that your manhood will someday reassert itself. Living, he knew that he would never send that letter. "I'm a detective; my ears and eyes have been trained to absorb all I see and all I hear.
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