Peccadillo - A Katla Novel (Amsterdam Assassin Series Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

and drew his hand across his throat.
    “I’ll call you back, Pascal.” Katla broke the connection. “What do you think, Bram?”
    “What does Vermeer stand to gain in this deal? Does he have stock in Sphinx?”
    “Five percent,” Katla replied. “Non-voting. Pascal might get a commission on this deal. Not from us, but from the seller.”
    “How long would it take, this appointment?”
    “An hour, maybe two. I’d take a taxi, I don’t feel like driving.”
    “How is your leg?” Bram slipped his hand under her robe. The bullet that tore up her leg had been removed by one of his friends, but the removal had left a nasty scar. As soon as she’d been able, Katla had booked a flight to London, where a discreet surgeon repaired the damage as well as he could and glued the suture shut. According to Katla, the scar now resembled the silvery trail of a fat snail.  
    He stroked the scar softly. “Are you sure you didn’t exert yourself?”
    “I may have. A little. But I couldn’t walk around with my cane. I’d be too easy to remember.”
    “You still limp. That doesn’t attract attention?”
    “I can walk straight for at least a hundred meters, before I have to rest. It hurts, but—”
    “A hundred meters?” He shook his head. “Katla—”
    She put her finger on his lips. “I know what I’m doing. I’m not overexerting myself.”
    “You don’t think maybe it was a little too soon to start working again?”
    Katla sighed. “Maybe you don’t want me to work again?”
    “I’m just worried. Prescott told you it’d be months before you’d be able to—”
    “It’s been months, Bram.”
    “Fine.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Call the sycophant and tell him you’ll be at the meeting. I want to hear his reaction.”
    “You think there’s something fishy?”
    “Just call him.”
    The speaker emitted a series of beeps as the phone redialled Vermeer’s number.  
    The sycophant picked up before his machine could kick in. “Vermeer Financial Services.”
    “Sieltjes, Pascal. You wanted the meeting at the office?”
    “Yes, please. At ten, if possible?”
    “Who’ll be there? Emil?”
    A slight hesitation. “Mr. Bootz will be there, and maybe his representative if he doesn’t attend the auction in person. It won’t take long, Ms. Sieltjes. I promise.”
    Bram patted her shoulder and nodded.
    “I’ll be there, Pascal.”
    “Thank you very much, Ms. Sie—”
    Katla broke the connection. “And?”
    “For someone with five percent non-voting stock he sounds relieved and pretty grateful. His commission on this deal must be astronomical.”
    “You think the deal is crooked somehow?”
    “He hesitated before he confirmed Bootz’ attendance.”
    She put her hand on his chest. “You don’t think Emil will be there?”
    “I don’t know, Katla. Too many incongruities. I’d be wary, but you should trust your instincts.” He caressed the low curve of her back. “You can handle yourself.”
    Katla snuggled up to him. “We have some time to kill.”
    “I forgot. Killing makes you horny, doesn’t it?”
    “Your concern makes me horny.” Katla pulled him to the bedroom by his belt buckle. “I need some of your loving before my dangerous meeting with my accountant.”

TRAP

    The crane rolled along the quay, the empty twenty-foot container hanging from the hook looking like a morsel in the long beak of a heron.  
    Chen leant over Nicky’s shoulder. “Pity about the rain, Sai-Lo.”
    Nicky glanced at his face. “What for, Younger Brother?”
    “It’s a nice view.”
    Even for an industrial landscape the Amsterdam harbour didn’t qualify as a nice view. Drab buildings on a drab quay with grey water darkened by oil sludge. Saturday evening and the harbour was deserted except for their crew, huddled in dark windbreakers, trying to shield from the stinging rain.
    “Maybe for a Joy Division fan,” Nicky replied, halting the crane near the bow of the ocean freighter berthed at the