She went to the door, opened it, and forced a smile onto her face. The man standing there smiled back nervously, a closed lip affair. He was small. Not just short, but small. Probably barely five feet and he seemed even smaller than that, his body almost gaunt. His small, sharp eyes darted around, not settling on anything for more than a few moments.
“Mr Rattilio, I presume,” said Janet.
“Oh no, please call me Frederico.”
“Then you must call me Janet,” she said, putting her hand out.
He looked startled for a moment, then composed himself and reached his own out to shake. His hand barely gripped hers, and he slipped it away as quickly as he could. His hand had been strangely cool. Not cold, just cool, as if he might have circulation problems.
“Please, come in,” said Janet. “I’
