42. WHY?

John raised his arms to his chest. "Please."

Madam Jenn then took a sip of bittersweet-flavored coffee. "Thank you, this is delightful."

John crossed one leg over the other. "Now tell me where my daughter is."

"All right, as promised." Madam Jenn took a roll of paper out of her crocodile skin bag. The palm of her hand was so slippery holding the thing that the scroll rolled down John's leg.

"Oh dear! Sorry!"

John's spontaneity as a true gentleman was provoked. He immediately bent down and picked up the coconut leaf-thick scroll of white paper that was meant for him. Just then, Madam Jenn stood up and leaned forward—a light tap on her false nails and a sprinkle of poisonous powder dissolved in John's coffee.

Madam Jenn's speed was incredible. It was as if she had been practicing this mission for thousands of years. John swallowed as Madam Jenn retreated to the sofa.

"Is that for me?" John asked for confirmation.

Madam Jenn nodded. "Open it."

The golden tape