Capital Punishment Read Online Free PDF Page A

shrivelled, too.
    ‘You thought you were a civilised man,’ said Boxer.
    ‘It’s been a terrible lesson,’ he said, nodding. ‘To find myself as bitter as Diogo Chaves.’
    ‘And how did you get yourself into that state?’
    ‘I blame myself for what happened. I’m tortured by what I might have done in my life that could have made these men do that to my little girl. I’ve asked myself too many unanswerable questions and I’m smaller inside for it,’ said Dias. ‘You didn’t know me before. I was a happy guy, but now...’
    Dias clenched his fist, gritted his teeth.
    ‘So, what are you going to do about Diogo Chaves?’
    ‘You remember one of our conversations back in São Paulo, about retribution?’ said Dias, clipping the end off the cigar.
    ‘I might do.’
    ‘You told me that the only shortcoming of your job was that you got the hostage back and then left. You were never involved in any retribution. The victims and families had their closure, but there was none for you. You never saw the criminals punished. Isn’t that right?’
    ‘Something along those lines,’ said Boxer, remembering their talks long into the night, but not the detail. ‘I probably told you that most victims don’t like to testify. They just want to get on with their lives. But the problem with kidnappers is that once they’ve felt the
easiness
of that money, they always do it again.’ Dias leaned forward, put his glass down on the table and stared intently into Boxer’s eyes.
    ‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘How would you like to make sure that Diogo Chaves never does it again?’
    Silence. The poker player in Boxer suppressed the jolt of adrenaline that whitened into his bloodstream. That
was
something he wanted. Or worse, since leaving GRM and finding this dark hole opening up inside him more frequently,
needed.
But he’d learnt something about his terrible cravings: never snatch.
    ‘I think it should be
you
who goes to the police,’ said Boxer, playing it carefully.
    ‘I’m not talking about the police,’ said Dias, leaning back, lighting his cigar with a gold Zippo. ‘I’m talking about
you
...taking Chaves out.’
    He snapped the Zippo shut, puffed on the cigar.
    ‘What makes you think I’d be prepared to do that, Bruno?’ he asked calmly.
    ‘I have a friend, a Russian businessman. You did a job for someone he knows. He told me that you got this guy’s son back unharmed from a gang in Kiev, and then you followed up on some information he received about a Ukrainian member of that same gang who was later found frozen to death in a forest outside Archangel.’
    ‘He was inappropriately dressed for the conditions he found himself in,’ said Boxer.
    ‘Look, Charlie, you know what I’m talking about,’ said Dias. ‘I’d do it myself if I could, but I’m not up to it.’
    Boxer wondered if Bruno Dias was expecting this to make him feel better. The Brazilian misinterpreted his silence.
    ‘I don’t expect you to do it for nothing.’
    ‘I wouldn’t be doing it for nothing,’ said Boxer. ‘I told you, Bianca is on my mind every day.’
    ‘What about your charitable foundation?’
    ‘How do you know about that?’ said Boxer.
    ‘It’s out there in the ether somewhere,’ said Dias, waving his cigar vaguely. ‘The LOST Foundation. You help people find missing persons when the police have given up. Is that worldwide?’
    ‘Just the UK at the moment,’ said Boxer. ‘I only have two expolice officers working for me right now. I need more funding to be able to go worldwide.’
    ‘What sort of contribution would you be looking for?’ asked Dias.
    ‘I need more trained investigators,’ said Boxer, letting Dias make his assumptions. ‘I also need a proper office.’
    ‘How about two hundred square metres of office space in a quiet mews off Marylebone High Street?’
    ‘Unimaginable.’
    ‘Start imagining,’ said Dias, hunched forward now. ‘Do we have a deal?’
    Boxer blinked, swallowed hard. Each