Angel and the Assassin 3: Sins of the Father

a frantic whisper to shouting.
    “Was he married?”
    “Yes. Thank God he had no children.”
    “Tell his wife to get tested for venereal disease. Ask her if he ever hit her.”
    There was a long pause. “I’m not suggesting he was a model citizen. According to
    the police, the wife was not exactly devastated at the news, but that is hardly relevant.”
    “Fuck off and don’t annoy me with this again. Did you find any information on
    Romodanovsky?”
    “No, not yet. But if he is your father, it would make perfect sense! You’re both self-
    serving, evil bastards!”
    “Then I assume you will be having Romodanovsky prosecuted for rape and me
    for murder very soon.”
    Conran hung up.
    “Daddy, are you okay?” Angel stood on the bottom stair looking at him. “The girls
    want their stories.”
    “Yes, I’m coming.” He drained his glass and stood up.
    Zoe and Amelia shared a big bedroom with pink walls. They had matching beds
    with pretty pink bedding and little frilly canopies over the top. Toys, dolls, and books
    lined every shelf and window ledge. An ornate dollhouse stood on the floor with small
    items of furniture scattered about the rooms. Kael had never been in a girl’s bedroom
    before. He looked up at the ceiling where a sky was painted with clouds and stars.
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    Holding hands, the girls craned their necks back to look up at him. “Do you like
    our bedroom, Uncle Kael?”
    “It’s very pink and messy,” he said, looking at the toys lying on the rug.
    Angel knelt in front of the bookshelf, perusing the many offerings. “Pick a story
    each, girls. We’ll read Amelia’s first because she is the youngest, and then Zoe’s second
    because she is the oldest.”
    The logic behind Angel’s statement was lost on Kael, but he said it with such
    gravity that neither girl questioned it. Kael wandered over to look out of the window
    while Angel read the first story. The big back garden below had colorful swings and a
    slide in the middle. A climbing frame and a number of ride-on toys were scattered
    about.
    Angel’s melodic voice made him turn back to watch and listen. The three sat on a
    pink love seat with Angel in the middle, still managing to hold the book even with his
    arms around the girls. When he was finished, he looked up at Kael, smiling. “Your turn,
    Daddy.”
    Kael looked around for somewhere to sit. Being so big, he was afraid to sit on the
    beds. Everything looked so fragile. Angel pulled the girls onto his lap and scooted over,
    patting the seat beside him. Angling his body into the small space beside them, Kael felt
    huge and awkward. “What am I reading?”
    Zoe got a book from the shelf. “Read Alfie’s New Boots .”
    Halfway through the story about a little boy who got a new pair of wellies and
    went splashing through puddles in them, both girls got up to demonstrate their own
    splashing technique. They began to stomp about the room pretending to splash water,
    screaming at the top of their lungs. After Conran, who had made him more irritable
    than he realized, the noise of the screaming made Kael’s scalp tighten. His nerves felt
    frayed. He’d rather be out on a hit than here reading a story to two little girls in their
    cozy bedroom. One glance at Angel showed the boy laughing at their antics.
    “Sit down and let’s finish,” Kael said, but no one heard him. “Be quiet!”
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    The girls stopped, looked at him for a long frozen moment, and dissolved into
    tears.
    “Daddy!”
    Getting down on his knees, Angel gathered the girls to his chest. They wrapped
    their arms around his neck and cried loudly on his shoulders. The look on Angel’s face
    when he turned on Kael would have got him a slapped arse under other circumstances.
    He bared his teeth and glared. After what seemed an eternity of comforting them,
    Angel began to talk to the girls.
    “Uncle Kael didn’t mean to be loud and bossy, did you?” His emphasis on loud
    and bossy was very annoying.
    “No,” Kael mumbled. “But they were giving me a headache.”
    “Sorry, Uncle Kael,” Zoe mumbled through her tears.
    “Oh, uh, well…I’m sorry too, Amelia,” he said.
    “I’m Zoe.”
    “Sorry, Zoe. I’m sorry to both of you,” he said. “Sorry, Amelia. I didn’t mean to
    shout.”
    Angel waved him closer. Awkwardly he got down on the rug and sat cross-legged
    looking at them. After a few minutes of cautious glances, the