Page 164 of Bad Bishop

“I vote we start cutting off his body parts.” I uncrossed my arms and pushed off the wall, losing patience. “Begin with the fingers and work our way up. He obviously needs to be…incentivized.”

“Trust me when I tell you my motivation is sky-fucking-high,” Angelo snarled. “I told you the truth. I was inside the mansion. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

“How about the truth?” Achilles suggested. “We checked the CCTV footage. You slipped out of the ballroom during that timeframe.”

“Y-yes.” Angelo’s teeth chattered, framed by blue, numb lips. “I said I was inside the mansion, not in theballroom.”

“Where were youinsidethe mansion?” Achilles asked, producing his phone out of his pocket.

“We have footage access to all of the grand rooms.”

Angelo pressed his lips, tipping his head back with a heavy sigh. He looked about ready to shoot his own head and be done with it.

“You won’t find the footage.” His voice cracked.

“Oh?” Achilles feigned surprise. “And why’s that?”

“Because I slipped into one of the bedrooms.”

“Partied so hard you needed to take a nap?” Enzo made a mock-sad face.

“Something like that,” Angelo sneered, cutting his gaze to me. “Look, man, I’m sincerely sorry for whatever happened to warrant this kind of interrogation of me. Whatever happened to your woman—”

“To my wife,” I corrected crisply.

“To yourwife, must be pretty bad. But I’m telling you, you’re barking up the wrong tree here.”

Achilles and I exchanged looks. I nodded once. Achilles pulled his gun out and shot Angelo’s splayed fingers on the table, blowing up his pinky.

“Fuck!” Angelo kicked back, squirming in the seat he had his legs tied to, howling in pain.

“Anyway.” Achilles said nonchalantly, holstering his gun. “You were saying, you were in a bedroom?”

Angelo panted hard, nodding violently. “Yes, yes.”

“What were you doing there?”

“I was there with…someone.”

“Lucky you.” Achilles’s mouth twisted with a smirk. “Care to tell us who it was? Just so we could give them a call and confirm your alibi.”

“I can’t tell you.” Angelo spat blood to the floor.

“Why not?”

“Because it’d ruin her life,” he groaned. “And it’d ruin mine, too.”

Enzo beamed, the picture of sunshine and teddy bears. “She married?”

“No.”

“Betrothed?”

Angelo stopped to think about it, then shook his head.

“Then it’s not that big of a deal if you tell us her name,” Achilles concluded. “I mean, there’s the humiliation of having to admit to fucking you, but we’ll keep her secret.”

“So.” I pressed my knuckles to the desk on the other side of Angelo, studying him from above. “Who’s the lucky lady?”