What would you like to tell readers about yourself?
* Simon Cann is the author of the Boniface, Montbretia Armstrong, and Leathan Wilkey series of books.
* In addition to his fiction, Simon has written a range of music-related and business-related books, and has also worked as a ghostwriter.
* Before turning full-time to writing, Simon spent nearly two decades as a management consultant, where his clients included aeronautical, pharmaceutical, defense, financial services, chemical, entertainment, and broadcasting companies.
* He lives in London.
* Leathan soon tires of her spending habits, her selfie obsession, and her social media preoccupation as his ward drags him from shop to boutique to jeweler, approaching each with the self-possession that comes from a lifetime of getting her own way and never once having to worry about money.
* But when Clementina snaps her fingers and her boyfriend doesn’t come running, something is up. He doesn’t appear because he’s been murdered.
* When Leathan investigates, he finds that the boyfriend has no background and met Clementina through a connection made by daddy’s business partner.
* Daddy’s business partner who has been slowly and progressively putting daddy in a vice, grabbing more of the business, and who is now menacing Clementina directly to manipulate daddy.
* “Vianney,” he said.
* “Vianney. Is this the only way out?”
* He nodded, a precise tilt of his head like a movement fashioned by a watchmaker.
* “Do you know who is over the back?” I pointed over the wall.
* A shake of his head, equally precise. I pulled out my phone. Vianney shook his head again—three small twists. “No signal.” He pointed back inside. “Seven paces.”
* I took seven paces and got two bars. “We’re going out the back,” I said when Reece answered. “I’m not sure what’s there, but come and find us there.” Back outside, Clementina was still staring up at the sky. “Ready?” I asked.
* She seemed perplexed.
* “We’re going to meet the neighbors,” I said, taking her shiny bag and handing it to Vianney. “You’re going first.”
* “What are you talking about?” she asked.
* “We’re going over the wall—you’re going first. Give your bag to Vianney to hold.” I pointed to the large lump of leather still hanging from her shoulder. “And put this back on.” I handed her the jacket I was carrying. I was sure it wasn’t designed for rough and tumble, but I preferred it be scraped rather than her.
* “Why…?” she began.
* “Because it’s the only way out, and you’re going first because if I go first there’s no one to help you over the wall,” I said, predicting her range of questions. “What else did you want to do today?”
* “I wanted…” she began, slipping on her jacket. “That was rhetorical, wasn’t it?”
Thank you for joining us here today, Simon Cann! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.
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