"Two days ago, you called me, told me you killed Austyn."

'Yes.'

'How?"

'I drugged him.'

'With what?"

Deborah had rehearsed her lines many times on the way. 'I put cephalosporin in his wine. The mixture triggered a disulfiram-like reaction. He went into shock ten minutes later and was dead within fifteen.' Santoro took some time to digest the news.

He chuckled. 'You sure put your medical training to good use.'

Deborah studied medicine at universe but she never got to finish the five-year course.

'You said this was two days ago?' Santoro asked.

'Yes.'

'And you said you got his body with you right now?'

'Yes.'

"You've touched down

in Bluemore?

"Yes. The plane landed half an hour ago."

'How did you get a corpse past customs? You didn't buy him a ticket and strap him in next to you, did you?'

'No, of course not.' Deborah gritted her teeth and reminded herself to be patient.

She was so close to the finishing line.

'I embalmed his body, called a funeral home, claimed he was originally from Trinidonia and wished to be buried in his home country. The staff arranged a cargo plane to transport the coffin. I had to pay extra to get the process expedited. I also paid fifty K for a forged death certificate."

'I'm impressed. You're more resourceful than I thought. And ruthless. I didn't actually believe. you had the heart to kill Austyn. Where are you now?'

'At a hotel downtown."

"The corpse is with you?'

'Yes.'

'Didn't the funeral home staff get suspicious when you asked them to deliver the body to a hotel instead of a cemetery?'Text content © .

'Their job ended with the flight. I said I would wait for his family and friends to come. The staff brought the body here and then left.

Deborah said before Santoro could ask more questions, 'Mr Santoro, I've held up my end of the bargain. Now it's your turn to deliver.'

'Hmm. Santoro pondered for a while. 'Have you, though? You didn't exactly stick to the plan. I asked you to destroy Austyn's reputation first followed by his company, his marriage, his family. Then and only then will you take his life. Santoro's voice grew cold. 'You skipped straight to the end."

Your Son Is Six Years Old

"You can't honestly expect me to do all that by myself!' Deborah raised her voice.

She drew in a deep breath. 'Anyway, you wanted to kill him, right? I did that. I succeeded. The rest is not important.'

"Hmm.' Santoro didn't sound convinced.

'Please, Mr Santoro.' Deborah was on the verge of tears. 'I did what you asked.'

'I don't know. It just all sounds so...easy."

"I'm not lying, I swear!' Deborah wanted to pull her hair out. 'I will never do that! You still have my son! I will never do anything to jeopardise his life, you know that! Santoro fell silent.

Right, he still had Deborah's boy, which was why she agreed to work for him in the first place.

She wouldn't do something stupid like lying to him.

'Okay,' he said finally.

Then he added his customary threat, 'But if I find out you double-crossed me, your son's going to pay the price. Death will be too easy. I'll sell him to the organ harvesters.' 'I will n-never betray you.' Deborah's knees almost buckled. 'I loved Austyn, but I love Aiden even more!!

Santoro pondered her words.

The silence on the line was killing her.

Deborah gripped the arm of the sofa.

She had to sit down.

She couldn't stand the tension.

'Do

you have access to a car?' Santoro asked.

'I don't, but I can rent one,' Deborah said quickly.

'Don't bother. Ask the hotel concierge to arrange a van for you

Santoro paused. 'How did

you convince them to give you a room? You are lugging around a coffin.'

'I...I said I work for a casket manufacturer. The coffin's just a prototype. They didn't know there's a body inside.

'And they didn't bother to check?"

'I offered the receptionist some money under the table. He agreed to look the other way.'

Deborah had to grab the phone with both hands.

Her palms were sweaty.

She was taking one hell of a risk.

She was betting on the likelihood that Santoro wouldn't be able to verify her story.

He was a fugitive and got into the country illegally.

He didn't have the manpower to stake out the airport, so he wouldn't know there was no cargo flight scheduled to land at Blumore Airport today. There were two dozen hotels in Blumore, a tourist town.

Santoro couldn't send men to all of them, so he wouldn't know no one had checked into a hotel today with a coffin in tow.

Deborah prayed the ruse would work.

She didn't dare think about the cost of failure.

'Okay.' Santoro seemed to buy it. 'Ask the concierge to arrange a van for you. Put the coffin in the back. Be ready to leave at eight am tomorrow "Where am I going?"

'I'll tell you that when you're on the way. Make sure the van has a GPS navigation system. I wouldn't want you to get lost.' Santoro cackled. 'Okay, I'll talk to the concierge."

'If I don't see Austyn's body tomorrow, you won't see your boy.' Santoro threatened her again. 'At least not the living and breathing version. One way or another, there's going to be at corpse in the room tomorrow. You understand?" 'I do, Mr Santoro, I'll make sure Austyn's body is delivered to you. Please don't hurt Aiden!'

'Relax. He's fine. For now. Whether that continues to be the case is entirely up to you. Remember, eight o'clock. Don't be late. And come alone.

'Yes, Mr Santoro."

Deborah didn't breathe out until Santoro hung up.

Her shoulders slumped immediately.

She wiped her forehead, which was drenched in sweat.

She sat on the sofa and caught her breath.

Then she looked up at the tall figure standing by the window.

The call was put on speaker.

Austyn heard everything.

'Eight o'clock tomorrow morning, Deborah said,

Austyn turned around.

He held an unlit cigarette between his fingers.

His gaze was fixed on Deborah's face.

"You did well, he finally said.

They had worked and re-worked the script half a dozen times on the way here,

Austyn coached Deborah on what to say.

He had anticipated all the questions Santoro asked.

'I'll talk to Damian and make some arrangements. Santoro's not getting away this time.'

Deborah shot to her feet when he walked past the sofa.

She grasped his hand. 'Don't you have anything else to say?"

'Like what?"

'Don't you want to ask about Aiden-your son?"

Austyn flinched.

'He's six years old now. A good boy. The sweetest. He takes after you."

Deborah's face softened when she talked about her son.

The look of dread and anxiety a minute ago was replaced with one of tenderness.

'He's my rock. I wouldn't have survived all these years without him. He's precocious, super smart, which I think he got from you. He's generous, too. He shares his cookies with me, you know..." Austyn gently extracted his hand. 'It's almost nine o'clock. You should get some rest. We need to make an early start tomorrow. I'll get the van ready."

'But Aiden-

'We can talk about this later.'