CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

“What is your name?” James’ voice was softer than usual, and it had a kinder lilt. I guessed he figured he didn’t have to try so hard after the poor woman was pumped full of drugs.

“Elizabeth, Margaret, Sharkey.” Although Sharkey’s speech was still slow, there was no pause this time, and more importantly, no giggling.

“What do you do for a living?” The second question came as smoothly as the first, and she answered it without hesitation.

“I work for Cellular Operations. It’s nothing to do with mobile phones - it’s more of a front for undercover operations.”

My eyes bulged as Sharkey began revealing all the pertinent details of our business. If this happened to me while under Alain’s roof, my life would be toast - very burnt, black, and unrecoverable toast.

“What’s your role in the business?” The question seemed benign from James’s lips, but that one little question could do a whole world of damage in the wrong person’s hands.

“I oversee day-to-day operations. My role involves a bit o