I was burning fragrant pastilloes before a statue of St Stupide when the phone rang.

— Yo!

— We have the money.

— Eh?

— We have the money. Now where do we meet?

To be honest, if I’d thought for one second that they’d ever come up with ten million dollars, I’d never have thrown her over that bridge. Oops!

And to cap it all, the pastilloes were Snowberry. I was sure it said Strawberry on the pack.


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