The man came out with a tray with cups, a tea pot and a half full bottle of brown Rum, a brand she had never heard of. “I know my suggestion is...ti...kling you...else you would not be here now, Ingrid” he said in a soft voice. She began to giggle uncontrollable. Even though nothing really had happened yet, it was such a crazy situation to be in. “Is it because of my age or because I have promised you a firm hand?”She laughed even harder. The man poured the tea. The table was between them. She. ‘Ah, Mr. Damien Black, finally up close and personal. Most people who have seen your face don’t seem to live very long.’ ‘Well, lucky for you I’m in these,’ he grunted, eyeing his chains. ‘Take those as a compliment.’ The man sat. Damien slumped into the chair opposite letting out a deep breath. ‘So, you killed Grant Thoroughby, the lawyer. Want to talk about it?’ ‘Don’t I get a phone call or a bathroom break?’ ‘Let’s just say you’re not exactly at the precinct.’ ‘So I’ve noticed. The shit. More

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