Peccadillo - A Katla Novel (Amsterdam Assassin Series Book 2) by Martyn V. Halm Read Free Book Online Page A

limped to the door. One of the Chinese men from the hallway stepped in front of her to block the doorway and gazed over her shoulder.  
    Behind her, Lau said, “I didn’t say you could go, Ms. Sieltjes.”
    “I don’t need your permission.” Katla kept her eyes on the face of the young Chinese in front of her. “Tell your underling to let me pass, or my price goes up to two-point-four.”
    “She can pass,” Lau spoke. “I’ll get back to you, Ms. Sieltjes.”
    “Let me know if you want me to bring you another accountant to shoot,” she replied without turning. “Or if you plan to supply your own.”
    Katla limped through the doorway and went downstairs, followed by one of the Chinese men. The taxicab was still parked by the door and the driver opened the passenger door. The Chinese man held the door while she climbed inside and closed the door. The driver gave her a speculative look, but she motioned for him to drive.
    As the taxicab bumped along the quay, Katla fished her cell phone from her pocket and looked at her watch. Two minutes to spare. She pressed the speed dial while the driver got out with her keycard to open the gate.
    “Yes?” Bram asked. “Are you all right?”
    “I’ll take the long way home. If I’m not home in thirty minutes, you know what to do.”
    She rang off, rested her head against the headrest and closed her eyes.  
    Close call. Too close.  
    She took a deep breath, the adrenalin slowly fading.  
    The car rocked as the taxi driver got back in. “I take it the meeting didn’t go well?”
    The driver had to be dealt with—the Chinese would find him and get him to divulge where he’d picked her up. She briefly entertained the idea of killing him—taxi driver is a dangerous occupation, and he wouldn’t be the first to end up getting killed by a passenger. On the other hand, she could try to use him to find the Chinese.
    Katla opened her eyes. “Do you want to earn two hundred euro, Laurens?”
    “Depends.” Thooft gave her a crafty look. “What do I have to do and how much are we talking about?”
    “These Chinese are not on the level, I think you could see for yourself.”
    He gave a non-committal nod.
    “They don’t know where I live. So they will find you and persuade you to divulge where you picked me up.”
    “You don’t have to worry,” he said. “I have a ‘bad memory’.”
    “That kite won’t fly with them.” Katla took two crisp hundred euro bills from her wallet. “I don’t want you to forget you picked me up just outside of the World Trade Center.”
    “That’s right.” He stuffed her money in his inside pocket. “I won’t forget.”
    “You might get a financial compensation for your information. Act eager to earn more and offer to keep an eye out for me. For a suitable fee, of course.”
    “I’d have to have a way to contact them, though.”
    “At their discretion,” Katla said. “Don’t ask for their number. They’re smart enough to see through any attempt to gain intelligence on them. Don’t underestimate them. If they think you’re trying to mess with them, they are liable to torture the information from you.”
    He nodded. “You think they’re Triad?”
    “I wouldn’t be surprised if they were. Like I said, these are bad people. It’s important you don’t act the hero, or you’ll end up in a canal without your kneecaps.”
    Thooft didn’t look impressed by that possibility. “So how will I reach you?”
    “I’ll contact you. I want to you to make a stop at the Java Eiland first, then drop me off, then make a couple of stops before you return to your taxi rank. What is your taxi rank?”
    “Stopera. You want me to drop you off at the zoo again?”
    Katla nodded. “Just don’t mention that to them okay?”
    Thooft grinned. “Why would anyone want to be dropped off at the zoo when it’s closed?”

SLAUGHTERHOUSE

    The slaughterhouse was quiet except for the humming refrigerators. In the middle of the tiled room,