A Little Bit OddDue for release, Autumn 2019
Oddball is tasked with finding out who murdered his fellow agent, Marion. He believes it is linked to the disappearance of billions of pounds from government coffers. Oddball knows that catching Marion’s killers will require footwork by him, but discovering how massive sums of taxpayers’ money are missing will require someone with specialised computer skills.
Harriet Lewis is such a person, but she carries the scars of her childhood abuse, which makes her hard to handle. Oddball asks Saxon to help and much to everybody’s surprise, she and Harry get a long just fine. In fact, Harry Lewis is no longer the introvert that most people know her to be. She tears through firewalls like they are tissue paper and leads Oddball to his colleague’s killers while uncovering dark secrets about the missing money. In an unexpected twist, Harry discovers something about herself that she had never suspected.
A LITTLE BIT ODD
The man glanced at his watch again. “Your time is up Miss Lewis. Talking time is over. You move that money back now or I will kill you.”
“The same way you killed Marion Watson?”
“I told you – I didn’t kill her. That was Botkin’s two goons.”
“You sold her down the line,” Harry shouted. “Same as you did Emily. They were just disposable garbage as far as you were concerned.”
“It wasn’t intended that way, but if that’s how it worked out, tough shit. You have also just become disposable garbage. Now I want that money. Get it moved.” He waved his gun towards Harry’s laptop.
“And then what? You’ll kill me anyway.”
The man wiped a bead of sweat off his top lip. “There’s death and there’s death, Miss Lewis, as Mia discovered. A nice clean death with a bullet in the skull is far preferable to a messy death. In a few seconds, if you don’t move that money, I’m going to shoot you in the knee. The IRA used to do that to informers. They called it kneecapping. Nasty, nasty sanction. Very painful, and turned the victims into a cripples for the rest of their lives. If you still refuse to co-operate, I shall shoot the other knee. And then I’ll shoot an elbow. And then the other. You’ll be begging for death well before that. But you are not going to die until you have returned that money. Then I will find a humane way dispose of you.”
“You make me sound like an injured animal.”
“You’re not even injured yet, but you’re about to be. Last chance.”
“Sorry,” Harry said, standing as firm as her shaking legs allowed, “but that’s not going to happen.”
“I’ll count to three,” he said. “When I say the word ‘three’ you will enter a world of pain that you could never have imagined. And that will only be the beginning. One…”
Harry moved. One small step back, two to the right, one back again: box steps in a dance of agitation. She knew it wouldn’t stop him from firing, but if she didn’t move, her bladder was struggling to support her need not to urinate.
The man’s voice was as gentle and smooth as lake water on a summer night. Harry could float on it in perfect peace, staring up at the wide expanse of stars. That’s where she willed her mind to go. She didn’t want to hear him reach three. She knew it was going to be bad. Fog coated her thoughts as she fought to control her shaking legs. Her nerves felt exposed, as if her skin was peeling. She curled her hand into a fist, the nails cutting into her palm, waiting for the pain to hit.
“Three,” and the crack of a pistol shot rang out across the room.
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