Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 51803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
“Oh, certainly not. Most uncivilized, the murder of our boys in blue.” Conrad nodded his head solicitously towards the stage. “I wish only to teach you a lesson that you will not soon forget.”
Valenti’s heart pounded against his ribs; he could guess what kind of lesson Conrad had in mind.
“Now, Detective Valenti, you look positively pale, which is no mean feat for a man of your handsome complexion.” The thin lips twitched into a smile that promised many things, all of them excruciatingly unpleasant. “I assume from the expression on your face that you have heard of my usual methods of persuasion.”
Valenti only nodded, not trusting his voice. Conrad had descended the stage now and was circling around him, but not too close. The man had to know that if the goons on either side let go of Valenti, he would be on Conrad in a New York minute, but he obviously wanted to be close enough to gloat.
“I considered the ... ah ... usual treatment, Detective.” Conrad grinned, circling like a shark. “But then I had a stroke of, well, I suppose I must call it genius. Not that I am vain, you understand.” He smiled modestly, one hand placed on his slender chest. He was wearing a suit that was ice-cream white, and his olive skin stood out with sallow perfection against its creamy fabric. Valenti was silent, watching, waiting.
“You see,” Conrad continued, coming to a halt in front of Valenti, “you are correct in assuming that I dare not kill you. No matter how secretly or skillfully it was done, I am afraid such an act would come back to haunt me. No, what I need from you is simply your silence. Your willingness to go back to where you came from, like good little boys, and never bother me again.”
“Not going to happen,” Valenti said stubbornly, meeting those dead eyes with his own, letting the certainty fill his face.
“Oh, but it will. I will make it happen. Or rather, you, Detective Valenti, will make it happen. What is the worst thing besides death that can happen to a red-blooded male like yourself?” He grinned lazily, letting the threat fill his thin face, and Valenti shivered involuntarily. Rape. He’s talking about rape. He shook his head, refusing to give Conrad the satisfaction of an answer.
“I could order Thad and Brutus to take you and your partner right here and now,” Conrad said, his voice flat and certain. He reached out and traced a line down Valenti’s cheek with one long, thin finger. Valenti worked hard not to flinch from the icy touch. “And what a sight it would be, my two brutes covering you both. The delicious slap of flesh against flesh as they showed you the true meaning of submission. But I have conceived of a superior idea, a more diverting exhibition by far.”
Valenti’s blood ran cold, and he glanced involuntarily at his partner still curled in the center of the vast bed. What could be worse than being raped by Conrad’s goons?
Conrad was watching him avidly and saw the quick glance toward O’Brian.
“You care for him deeply, do you not? Your partner?” He nodded over his shoulder at the stage. “But not in the way we care for each other. You are friends, partners, but not lovers. You are, as they say, ‘straight,’ no?”
There was a click in Valenti’s throat as he answered, “Yes.” No need to let Conrad know how far they had pushed the boundaries of their partnership these last few days at the RamJack.
“How difficult this little charade must have been for you, then.” Conrad seemed most amused at the thought of their discomfort. “How uncomfortable to touch each other in such a forbidden way. I’ll admit --” He chuckled. “-- that the kiss that you shared with him the first night almost convinced me. You are excellent actors, the both of you. And now you will be given the opportunity to put your considerable talent to use once more before you leave us here at the RamJack.”
“What ...” Valenti’s mouth was dry. He swallowed convulsively. “What are you talking about, Conrad?” he asked. The gray shark-eyes looked coolly into his own.
“Blackmail, Detective. Of you and your partner. And security for myself. After this afternoon’s show, neither of you will have any reason to ever bother me again. In fact, you will have ample reason not to. You see,” he continued, reaching out once more to caress Valenti’s cheek, “you and your partner are going to give a performance that you will not soon forget, and I will capture the whole of it on film. A film that will remain in my vault forever, unseen by anyone but myself unless you attempt to pry into my business again.
“That would be most unfortunate because the film could so easily be duplicated and circulated to anyone who had an interest. Newspapers, television stations, superior officers, and the like. Come.” He motioned briskly to the guards.