Get Charlie Noah

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Ben woke around 2 am. Nothing in particular woke him but he was wide awake. The wind had dropped and the house was silent. Straining your ears during the night to pick up sound can only be done while you are lying on your back. Face down isn't the best option and lying with your head on the pillow either left or right just won't do it because only one ear is effectively receiving sounds. Charlie was facing him on her side. Her breathing was slow and even...restful...just like a child. Ben rarely slept like that. He envied her.

Two in the morning was a good time to creep up on most people if you wanted to kill them or at the very least, rob their house. It would never have been a good time to approach Ben Hood because he rarely slept beyond midnight. He usually fell into deep sleep after extremely physical evening sex but was always awake just after midnight. Midnight, after all, was the bewitching hour and the most mysterious and intriguing time of the night.

'Shhh.'

'I didn't say anything,' Ben whispered. He turned his head to face Charlie. She was fast asleep.

'It's all in the measurement.' The soft female voice was above him.

'What's the measurement?' Ben whispered.

Charlie moaned and turned over so that her back was towards him.

'What's the measurement?' Ben whispered.

'Are you talking in your sleep,' Charlie asked.

'Yes.'

'Save your breath. I've got plans for you in the morning.'

'Oh.'

'What's the measure?' asked Charlie.

'I don't know,' said Ben softly.

Charlie's breath was slower. She had gone back to sleep. Ben didn't sleep for the rest of the night.

'I know where they are,' said Tara.

'Then finish it for God's sake,' said Reginald Noah.

'It's not as easy as you might think.'

'You're a damn professional and I'm paying you top dollar. Just get it over and done with.'

'It has to be well planned darling. I can't just waltz in there and kill them. Use your brains.'

'I'm facing serious charges Tara. I want her to pay.'

'Go and play with some slutty women or boys,' said Tara. 'You'll feel better.' She terminated the call and switched her phone off.

'How much you want for that?'

The village man stopped and looked up and down slowly at the man dressed as a Mormon. He had dumped the hire car way out along a track in the jungle on the other side of Malo Island and stolen a push bike on his way back to Amalo. The village man ran his bony fingers along the shaft of his blow pipe. 'What you want this for?'

'Flying fox.'

'You don't eat flying fox.'

'How much?'

'One hundred US dollars.'

'Jesus! Is it gold plated?'

'Not gold. Wood. Handmade.'

'How many darts?'

'Six.'

'Do you have poison?'

'Yes. Handmade. Home cooked.'

'I'll bet it is,' said the man in the sweat stained black suit. He pulled out a battered brown leather wallet and slid two fifty US dollar notes into his fingers. 'Does it come with instructions?'