Angie was caught and pulled down heavy jail time. Falls had breathed a sigh of relief and only hoped some other crazy bitch would put a shiv in Angie’s back. She opened the latter, realized her hands were shaking, read:

Girlfriend,

How are you sweetie?

I’ve missed you.

Your black, creamy skin, your wild, abandoned love-making, your lovely face got me through so rough times here on her

Majesty’s Service.

Wonderful news.

I’m out.

Aren’t you delighted?

I know you are.

I know you long for me.

Patience, my black meat.

I have few a loose ends to put right, but then I’ll be round. I see you’re still at the same address.

We’ll make up for all the lost time.

Soon, my lover.

Be patient.

Xxxxxxxx

Your own fox

Falls wiped her brow, sweat was pouring off her, the gin she hoped. The bar guy was over, asked:

‘Hot enough for yah?’

Falls fixed her steel eyes on him, said:

‘Fuck off’

He loved it, said:

‘God, I love it when babes talk dirty.’

And he was gone before Falls could reply.

She couldn’t believe it, Angie was out and stalking her. Panic gripped her. Angie was among the craziest of a whole series of deranged lunatics she’d met in her time on the force.

And to say she had ammunition on Falls was putting it mildly. Falls lit a cigarette, her hands a little steadier. The only person who could really deal with this type of psycho was Brant.

Feeling the drinks, Falls got to her feet and wondered if she should call a cab, she wasn’t sure if she was in any shape to drive.

The bar guy said:

‘You come back and cheer us all up soon, you hear.’

Brant would have given him a wallop up the side of the head.