Piao Cortez pulled down the brim of the hat before crossing the street. He was a tall and lean man. He was self-effacing. Only half of his face could be seen. He was wearing a moustache and a thick beard. His eyes quickly assessed the place.
The house seemed silent. The rooms had closed windows.
He knocked on the door slowly. One-two-three.
On the third knock, the door opened.
"Hi, handsome!" the young woman who opened the door greeted him suggestively. Her clothes were a skimpy shorts and halter-necked blouse. All red.
"Where is Beatrice?" he asked without preamble.
"W-who?" she sat on the chair suddenly. She was gasping for air.
"Point me to her--and you'll be alright," Piao reassured her.
The young woman looked above. She was barely breathing.
"Thanks!" Piao nodded at her. Wh
