Page 89 of Sticky Fingers

Security eventually calls it as too much and pushes the reporters to wait outside the building. When all the confusion subsides and only the Clarendon Tower tenants remain in the lobby, I turn to face them one final time.

“All this is because of her.” I point to Sonia, whose cheeks are now red. “From now on, she’s the only empire I need. We’re getting married.”

“Damn right!” Dominic’s shout erupts from the side, and Daphne punches him in the arm playfully.

At that, the two start clapping, and, in a split second, everyone in the lobby is cheering and clapping as if their lives depended on it.

Everyone but Peter, who has already stalked out of the lobby. The sour fucking loser can’t stand to see a happy man, it seems.

Climbing down from the stage, Sonia and I start making our way towards Daphne and Dominic when a hulking figure jumps out of nowhere to stand in your way.

“Congratulations, Malcolm,” Detective Strong growls, looking at Sonia without a serious expression for once. “I see you’ve gotten lucky.”

“Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have to—”

“Not so fast, Malcolm,” he hisses, taking one step towards me. “You’ve been tying all your loose ends, and it seems like it’s working for you...but don’t forget there’s one thing you have left hanging over your head that we still haven’t talked about.”

“Yeah? And what might that be?”

“The Picasso,” he growls once more, taking another step towards me.

Jesus fuck, is he planning on kissing me or some shit?

“I’ve closed all my investigations on you. Or rather I’ve had to. Except this one. You said you had it, didn’t you? Well, let’s see it then. You don’t want to leave this hanging over your head, do you?”

Ah, fuck me. I forgot about that shit.

Back then, it seemed like a smart move. Tell everyone I have the painting, lure the thief out, and then end up as the hero of this fucking story.

I just never dreamed things would turn out the way they did.

That Sonia would end up coming over. That I would tie her up. And then undress her.

And she’d bring her mouth down to my…

Anyway, back to reality.

“Well, I don’t have it,” I say with a simple shrug.

“Quit playing games, Malcolm!”

“It’s true. I only said I had it because I thought I could lure the thief out...but it didn’t work. Whoever that thief was...I doubt we’ll ever find that painting again.” I pause for a few seconds, just staring into Strong’s eyes, then sigh. “But we tried, didn’t we? That’s what matters.”

“You really expect me to believe that you pretended to have the painting to lure the real thief out?” Detective Strong asks.

I nod.

“But you showed people the painting!” a voice calls out.

I see Peter Ball-Licker walking up to us. Fuck, that man listens in on more conversations than I can count.

“You showed everyone the painting,” he echoed.

“It was a fake,” I say slowly, wondering where this is going.

“So, you lied to the entire building?” Peter asks. “That alone tells me that you may have sold some businesses, but you’re still the same criminal.”

“It was supposed to lure the thief out!” I exclaim. “It was a ploy!”