Kitchen Confidential

He shut the door behind me, never removing the barrel from the small of my back. A pair of fluoro tubes on the ceiling flickered on.

A kitchen. Cleaner and tidier than I’d have expected. Six-seater table, big refrigerator humming in the corner, VB carton open on the floor next to it. A faint musty smell.

The place was a hideout.

‘Put the bag on the table and sit there,’ he said. Nudging me to the closest chair.

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