Read Stark Contrasts (An Adam Stark novel Book 1) for Free Online Page A

might have seen her in a movie...if you know what I mean! HAHAHAHA!”
    Insert...
    “Ok, no problemo. Catch you later, man. Yeah, nice one! Ciao!”
     
    My wife looked at me and sighed. I shook my head. The waitress blushed. We ordered and settled back to enjoy the food and each other's company. The shouter had other ideas. Versions of the initial conversation rattled out over and over again. Sometimes more profane, sometimes involving some sort of business transaction. All the time, immensely irritating.
    After the starter, I made a visit to the bathroom and took stock of his set-up.
    I never got a good view of his face because he sat in the booth with his back to me. His date was a blonde, naturally. Well, I doubt she was a natural blonde, but nonetheless, the nouveau riche clichés kept on coming. Half-eaten food, an ice-bucket with Krug champagne, a blinged-up smart phone lying out on the table for all to envy. Even without seeing him well I could tell he was young - early to mid-twenties maybe - immaculately groomed and dressed in the kind of designer suit I would need to work a couple of lifetimes to afford. Wealth had afforded him a lot of things, but class was not one of them. Here he was, in the company of a beautiful, nubile young lady, with plenty of cash and the vigour of youth on his side, and yet, here he was, ignoring her, shouting his mouth off to numerous unseen callers, and leering over the waitress. He may have professed contempt for footballers, but he was a Premiership arsehole in my book. I made some preparations in the toilet and returned to my main course.
    The shouting and profanity continued. A waiter asked him politely to tone it down and he gave him a mouthful of abuse. Doubtless, the restaurant were prepared to tolerate a lot more bad behaviour from a client spending the kind of eye-watering sums he was lashing out. Personally, I think this was a bit of a short-sighted and short-term approach. If this was my place, he would long since have become intimately acquainted with the pavement outside. As we completed our desserts, he got up and headed to the toilet. I made my excuses to my wife and followed suit.
    He entered the stall, making the fatal error of failing to lock the door. I walked in straight after him and, before he could turn or react, I smashed him round the temple with the golf ball in a bag. He fell to the floor unconscious. I closed the door, slid the bolt across and got to work.
    I donned a pair of surgical gloves and gagged him with his own tie. Then, retrieving the mobile-phone from his pocket, I searched through the menus for his number; scribbling it down on a small pad. Next, I used a rope to tie him to the cistern, positioning him so his torso was across the pan. I undid his belt and zip, pulled his trousers and boxer shorts down to his knees. Finally, I took out the condom and applied the lube.
     
    Back at the table with my wife, we finished our aperitifs and paid the bill. Outside the restaurant I stopped at a pay-phone.
    “I just want to make a couple of calls. You go on ahead to the car. I'll catch you up.”
    “Why not use your mobile?” asked my wife.
    “Oh, the battery's running flat. Anyway, I sometimes get sentimental for the good old days,'” I said, winking at her as I punched in the number.
    “Yeah, if only that dickhead at the next booth had felt the same!”
    I laughed as the number rang out and I got through to the answer machine. It was the voice of a sultry young woman.
    “Leo can't take your call right now as he's too busy being successful. Leave your message and he might get back to you.”
    Something suddenly struck me about the name. Leo. Why would I know someone like him called Leo? I let it ride but something was nagging.
     
    In the toilet of Cardoza's a couple of waiters were washing their hands when the distinctive, but rather muffled ringtone of one Leo Corantelli struck up.
    One of the waiters whispered to the other.
    “I would love to