JAMESCharlotte pleads with her mother. "Why did you leave me? Why did you leave me there? At Blessingmoors. With him?"Mitch thunders upright from her seat. Face reddening, her mouth twists. "I did not leave you. I would never have left you...""I thought you must have abandoned me...""No." She swings on Charlotte, eyes glossy. "I left because..." Her voice hushes... "Because you were dead." Mitch presses fingers to her forehead. "You were dead. He told me that. How can you be alive? How?""Who told you?" I ask. "Klempner said that? He told you your baby had died?""No, not Larry." Hands pressed to her cheeks, Mitch swings her face to one side then the other. "It was Frank. He said you were dead, that he'd seen Larry murder you."The bang of a door closing echoes through the room, then boots on linoleum coming closer.Mitch whirls to the door. "He'll tell us.""He?"The door opens and a figure steps into the lounge. Not overly tall although perhaps once beefily bu
KLEMPNERBech speaks quietly. "There he is now. The green saloon, just coming around the corner. You got him?""I've got him. Where's the girl?""Not seen her."The area's run-down, grubby, populated by cheap houses and tired peopleSqualid little dump...Should demolish the lot...Living here... After everything I offered her...Gave her...Bech eyes me. I regather my thoughts. "Good. We'll take Conners now..."The car indicates, pulling over. Conners steps out, then rummages inside, taking out a briefcase and a newspaper, putting them on top of the car then stooping back inside.He's put on weight...Too much of the good life and home cooking...A swarm of small girls in witch's outfits, skeleton-painted dungarees and goblin masks giggles by. Bech stirs, but I say, "Wait 'til these kids have moved along."A three-foot high mistress-of-the-night, complete with pointy hat and fake raisin-on-the-nose wart stops by us, holding out a tin. Bech scowls. I drop
Mitch whimpers, keeping the stroller pulled well back from the corner and tucked out of sight. Jenny is restless. She wants to get out, to run and play. "Mommy...""Shhhh, Sweetheart." Mitch pulls a sticky paper bag from a pocket, takes out the largest, chewiest candy she can find and gives it to the toddler. Then she peers around the corner again.Where did they take Frank?The car pulled away, driving perfectly normally, but with her husband packed between two strangers...Police?Really police?... and Larry at the wheel...She sees the man in cop uniform speaking to Gemma.He looks familiar...She knows him... knows his face...Where from?"Wanna go home. Wanna play. Ellie." Jenny bangs little fists on the front bar of the stroller. Green sugar encrusts her mouth and chin, clashing against carrot-orange hair.The familiar/unfamiliar cop finishes talking with Gemma, touching his cap as she bangs her door closed. He smiles as she does so. It's not a pleasant s
Where did he go?Mitch sprints forward. A maze of alleys, derelict work sheds and abandoned machinery lies ahead of her. High brick walls block her view. She can hear footsteps, but they echo, reverberating against the hard landscape, seeming to come from all directions and none.Where is he?She dashes one way, then another, looking for another glimpse of a blue uniform...*****"Ah, Bech, there you are." Klempner casts an eye to his captain. "Everything in order? Stopped your rumours?""And started a few of my own." Bech circles the quivering Frank. "He behaving himself?""More or less. Not squealing as much as I'd like, but we'll see what we can do about that.""On the subject of squealing... It's carrying outside.""That right? Not a problem." Klempner jerks a thumb at McCullen, then at a reel of duct tape. "Close his mouth."Frank's eyes widen as tape, three inches wide, heavyweight, winds over his mouth and around his head, then again, another layer."Make s
"What d'you want done with her?" Bech tilts his head to the toddler, raises brows, draws a forefinger across his throat.Kempner pauses, plucking at his lower lip, then, "No, I'll take her back to Blessingmoors. Pick out one of the women... not one of the pretty ones... Tell her she's on creche duties. As long as she's looking after the kid, she's excused other work."Bech blinks. "Sir?""It'll draw in the mother, Bech. I want her alive." He turns to Frank. "And we'll see what happens after that shall we, Frank? I'll have to be inventive about what happens to your daughter, eh?" He cocks his head and winks.From behind the tape come muffled gurgles."What was that, Frank?" Klempner cups a hand to an ear. "I can't hear what you're saying. But then, who gives a fuck?" Bech regards Jenny with a flat gaze. "Y'know, it's worth thinking about. There's a market out there for the kids. Not just the adults. And there's always plenty of them available. Especially from some of those
How long will he remain unconscious?Jenny...Frank...Where are they?Inside the building, it's all but dark.Cigarette lighter...Mitch rummages in the pocket for the lighter. Flicking on the pale flame, moving as quickly as she dares, she heads as best she can in the direction of the roof-light, searching for the way down."Jenny... are you there, Baby? Talk to Mommy..."But there's only silence.Along a corridor, door after door; decaying offices, an ancient canteen...A stairway.It's pitch blackness she descends, calling... "Jenny? Talk to me, Baby. Jenny, tell Mommy where you are..."She's here: the cellar. A canvas and chain bundle lies on the cold floor, soundless, unmoving."Frank?" He moans as she touches him through the canvas. "Frank, it's me. It's Mitch. We're getting out of here."She fumbles at the chains circled around him then dashes back outside, stepping over the unconscious body en route. Grabbing the chain-cutters, she sprints back insi
JAMESThe door closes behind us, the latch dropping, but from behind us, clearly audible, "How could you, you bastard? How could you...""Don't you fucking talk to me like that, you bitch. You were the one doing all the lying. Lying all these years. You knew she was...""She's my daughter and you made me leave her..." The last word ends on a shriek, then a thump and a scream. "Frank, no!""My business ruined. One fucking dead-end job after another. No money. You fucked up my life, you bitch!"The next door along opens and a head pokes out; an old lady with blue-rinse hair and a face like a wrinkled apple. She takes us in with gimlet eyes then, "Don't mind me. I hear this too often. When I do, I leave my door open so she can run in here 'til the whiskey's worn off."From inside, another yell and a thump."That's enough," Michael mutters. "I'm not having this." He turns back, knocks on the door. "Mitch, open the door. It's Michael again."There's a shout, a male shout; a
CHARLOTTESpit it out.*Deep breath*"I have two husbands. Michael is the one with his name on the marriage certificate. James is the other."The single open eye blinks. "That's... novel. How does that work then? Having two men competing for your attention?" My mother swipes a hand through her hair. "I thought I knew all there was to know in that area, but it seems you've broken new ground.""They don't compete. They're very different. Good friends, but different."She's trying to frown, but the swelling won't let her. "How? In what way different?"I'm not used to having to account for myself this way. I've never had to do it. Never any 'Yes, Mama' or 'No, Papa'. But this is my mother.I want her to approve of me. Of what I'm doing. Of how I live. Of how I have chosen to live.I want her to like my two husbands."Michael's... well... you've seen him in action. He's... likeable. Everyone likes him. He cares. He doesn't always have a lot to say, but he shows it in oth