the
hampers. “That one is for dry cleaning, and that one is for the washing machine.”
Angel stripped quickly. Kael pointed at the en-suite bathroom, and Angel
preceded him in. They showered together in the sterile white and stainless-steel
bathroom and dried off with soft white towels from the glass shelves. Kael opened
the drawer under the sink. It was full of new tubes of toothpaste, containers of
dental floss, and new toothbrushes in their packages. He handed one to Angel.
“Thank you, Sir; actually, could I have pink?”
Kael tossed the toothbrush back into the drawer and pulled out one with a red
handle. “I do not have pink.” They brushed their teeth side by side in silence.
Kael had never had much patience with people, but tired and anxious about
the boy and his own insanity at letting him live and then bringing him home, he
was like an angry dog, snapping at everything. “Bed,” he ordered. Angel stood for
another second watching as Kael wiped down the sink with a paper towel and
tossed it into the stainless-steel bin.
At the bedroom door, Angel took a couple of trial paces before picking up speed
and leaping into the middle of the bed. Hands on hips, Kael watched him. He had
opened his mouth to tell him to behave when the boy turned round, grinning.
“Which is your side, Sir?” Kael just managed to suppress a smile.
The whole bed was his; he‟d never had a side before. He decided on the left and
pointed.
Angel pulled back the duvet. Kneeling up like a child, he took the pillows on
the left side, punching them to fluff them up. Kael stood beside the bed, waiting.
With one finger he indicated that Angel should move to the other side. Angel
scooted over, then patted the pillows on the other side, watching Kael‟s face for
direction. Kael threw himself down full length and reached out to the console to
close the blinds. The room fell into twilight.
34
Fyn Alexander
Angel sat cross-legged, looking at him. His voice was soft and nervous. “Sir,
are you mad at me? Are you bored with me already?”
Kael put his hands behind his head and sighed heavily. “Neither, I‟m just
tired.”
“Sir, what‟s going to happen to me?” Angel‟s voice was filled with uneasiness,
and he stuck his middle finger in his mouth, chewing on the nail.
“I don‟t know. Don‟t worry. I‟ll take care of you.”
“Will anyone think I killed Sven? They could blame me. The cops might come
after me. I don‟t think I‟d do very well in federal prison.”
“No, that won‟t happen.” Anyone finding the body would know right away it
was a professional hit, but cleanup was taking care of this one.
“Sir, where‟s my bag?”
“I put it in the hall cupboard. You can unpack it later.”
“I just need something from it.”
He got up and left, returning very quickly with the baby blanket in his hands.
He pushed it under his pillow and lay down beside Kael, resting his blond head on
Kael‟s shoulder. Kael wrapped his arm around the boy, letting his hand fall on the
slender hip. He had no idea what was going to happen to Angel. He should be lying
dead in the house in Cape Cod, not cuddled up in his bed in his flat in London. For
ten years he had executed his job perfectly, and in one night he had screwed
everything up just because he could not bring himself to finish the job properly. To
take care of the collateral damage.
“Sir, are you a hit man?” Angel asked.
Kael pinched Angel‟s buttock until he cried out.
“Ow. Are you going to do that every time you‟re mad at me?”
Hit man indeed. He was a highly trained professional. “Yes, so get used to it. If
anyone ever asks you what happened at the house in Cape Cod, you‟re to say you
were out on the beach. You saw nothing. You never saw Andresen dead.
Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Kael eased his grip. He had made his point.
“I guess Maria-Jesus will have found him by now. She‟ll have called the
hampers. “That one is for dry cleaning, and that one is for the washing machine.”
Angel stripped quickly. Kael pointed at the en-suite bathroom, and Angel
preceded him in. They showered together in the sterile white and stainless-steel
bathroom and dried off with soft white towels from the glass shelves. Kael opened
the drawer under the sink. It was full of new tubes of toothpaste, containers of
dental floss, and new toothbrushes in their packages. He handed one to Angel.
“Thank you, Sir; actually, could I have pink?”
Kael tossed the toothbrush back into the drawer and pulled out one with a red
handle. “I do not have pink.” They brushed their teeth side by side in silence.
Kael had never had much patience with people, but tired and anxious about
the boy and his own insanity at letting him live and then bringing him home, he
was like an angry dog, snapping at everything. “Bed,” he ordered. Angel stood for
another second watching as Kael wiped down the sink with a paper towel and
tossed it into the stainless-steel bin.
At the bedroom door, Angel took a couple of trial paces before picking up speed
and leaping into the middle of the bed. Hands on hips, Kael watched him. He had
opened his mouth to tell him to behave when the boy turned round, grinning.
“Which is your side, Sir?” Kael just managed to suppress a smile.
The whole bed was his; he‟d never had a side before. He decided on the left and
pointed.
Angel pulled back the duvet. Kneeling up like a child, he took the pillows on
the left side, punching them to fluff them up. Kael stood beside the bed, waiting.
With one finger he indicated that Angel should move to the other side. Angel
scooted over, then patted the pillows on the other side, watching Kael‟s face for
direction. Kael threw himself down full length and reached out to the console to
close the blinds. The room fell into twilight.
34
Fyn Alexander
Angel sat cross-legged, looking at him. His voice was soft and nervous. “Sir,
are you mad at me? Are you bored with me already?”
Kael put his hands behind his head and sighed heavily. “Neither, I‟m just
tired.”
“Sir, what‟s going to happen to me?” Angel‟s voice was filled with uneasiness,
and he stuck his middle finger in his mouth, chewing on the nail.
“I don‟t know. Don‟t worry. I‟ll take care of you.”
“Will anyone think I killed Sven? They could blame me. The cops might come
after me. I don‟t think I‟d do very well in federal prison.”
“No, that won‟t happen.” Anyone finding the body would know right away it
was a professional hit, but cleanup was taking care of this one.
“Sir, where‟s my bag?”
“I put it in the hall cupboard. You can unpack it later.”
“I just need something from it.”
He got up and left, returning very quickly with the baby blanket in his hands.
He pushed it under his pillow and lay down beside Kael, resting his blond head on
Kael‟s shoulder. Kael wrapped his arm around the boy, letting his hand fall on the
slender hip. He had no idea what was going to happen to Angel. He should be lying
dead in the house in Cape Cod, not cuddled up in his bed in his flat in London. For
ten years he had executed his job perfectly, and in one night he had screwed
everything up just because he could not bring himself to finish the job properly. To
take care of the collateral damage.
“Sir, are you a hit man?” Angel asked.
Kael pinched Angel‟s buttock until he cried out.
“Ow. Are you going to do that every time you‟re mad at me?”
Hit man indeed. He was a highly trained professional. “Yes, so get used to it. If
anyone ever asks you what happened at the house in Cape Cod, you‟re to say you
were out on the beach. You saw nothing. You never saw Andresen dead.
Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Kael eased his grip. He had made his point.
“I guess Maria-Jesus will have found him by now. She‟ll have called the
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