|
"My bull testicles. My...friend. He bought them for me as a gift when he was in Mexico City."
I looked at her. "And this, friend, Ms. Davis?"
She wiped away a tear. It was almost to much for her to bear.
"We had a...an affair, Mr. Hunt." She sobbed, the tears rolling down her rosy cheeks and disappearing into her blue dress like a ghost in the night.
"What was his name, Ms. Davis."
"What does it matter! He's dead now! Dead!" She flew herself on to my shoulder.
I figured it to be so. Affair, jealous husband, madman...it would all come down to a murder.
But that didn't explain why Al had wanted the souvenior. Evidence? A tasty mid-night snack? Conversational piece on his living room coffee table?
I stroked her deep black hair. "It'll be alright," I assured her.
The phone rang, startling us both.
|