Joe: Just getting a preview.
Nadine: You really think you can just do that? When the fuck did I give you permission for that?
Joe: Oh, come on. It’s what we’re both here for. Don’t go all coy on me now, sweetheart.
Nadine: I’m not your damn sweetheart. Where do you get off thinking you can just touch someone without their consent? You’re a fucking creep.
Joe: Who the hell do you think you’re talking to? I came here to get?—
Nadine: I know what you came here to get, but seeing as you think sexual assault is okay, you’re getting nothing except a dose of the truth. It’s a sting, you filthy moron.
Joe: Wh… what are you…?
Nadine: It’s a setup. You’ve been caught. I’m a decoy. I’ve been sent to try and trap you, and you walked right into it, you piece of shit.
Joe: You’re lying. What kind of game?—?
Nadine: The kind that sees photos of you all over me being given to your wife.
Silence.
Joe: Is this some kind of joke? Is this what turns you on?
Nadine: Nothing about you turns me on.
Joe: You want money? Is this a shakedown?
Nadine: Oh, I’ll get paid, but not by you. We have the proof that you’re a lying, filthy scumbag, and in a few hours’ time, your wife is going to know it too.
Joe stands up.
Joe: Give me the fucking photos.
Nadine: They already walked out the door, you arsehole.
Joe leans over the table and points in Nadine’s face.
Joe: You’re gonna regret this, you fucking bitch. You’re not going to get away with this. You wait and see.
Nadine: Bye, Joe. Happy life.
Joe: Drop dead, whore.
Silence.
Click.
‘He didn’t know about the recording – she never mentioned it,’ Kim said, feeling the excitement build.
‘Thanks, Mitch,’ she added, heading out of the morgue at speed.
She had wanted to know if the contents of the tape were bad enough to incite someone to murder.
Joe Butler had once again been blindingly angry at a woman whom he felt had done him wrong, and now she was dead.
Kim was pretty sure that was evidence enough.
Fifty
