JamesNone of us speaks through our journey. We know what we're doing, what our intentions are.And this time, it is almost certainly a question of rescue. What are the chances of Charlotte escaping again? Resourceful though she is....A worry nags at me. I lean back to Richard in the rear seat. "We are sure this is the right place we're going?""Will said that the gunman was anxious to 'be helpful'," he replies. "He knows he's up for twenty to life. It's a question of how comfortable he's going to be for most of the rest of his future. He insisted apparently, that if the underground hideouts are off the menu, this is where they would take the women."I suppose I have to be satisfied with that for now. In any case, we'll soon know.Would Charlotte and Beth's abductors choose something so close out of bravado? To throw us off by misdirection? Thumbing their noses at us? A last 'fuck-you' parting shot? Could the gunman taken from the hotel fire have even been sure that....
He sits in an armchair by the fireside, a teapot, cup and saucer and a small jug of milk on the table to his side.The room is warm and comfortable, homely, with framed photos displayed on a mantle. One is old, monochrome ageing to yellow of a young couple, smiling and arm-in-arm. Another is of a young red-haired girl. Mr Kalkowski moves slowly, his hair silver and cheeks sunken, but his eyes are bright and dark behind the spectacles.He takes the cup, sighing with enjoyment as he takes his first sip of morning tea, then unfolds the newspaper, shaking it to settle it to a comfortable reading position.And as he sees the headline, he goes still.Child Slavery Scandal - Children's Home Linked to Sex MarketReports are emerging of the escape of up to eighty children from the Blessingmoors Children's Home. Speculation is rife that the children were trafficked from countries worldwide and were destined for the sex market and labour gangs....He reads the article carefully, dr
RichardWe arrive under the window ledge. James inches up, looks in and then immediately drops down again, shaking his head and swearing under his breath. "Jeez… She's a fucking lunatic sometimes."Michael huffs. "What's she doing?""Winding them up, drawing them onto her. I think she's enjoying it.""You fucking bastards!" shrieks the voice. "You think you can do me? Let's see if you're up to it...."Michael's eyes meet mine and together we slide up, looking inside.The room is large, Klempner and his men gathered in a group.... And there's Elizabeth.My gut tightens. My beautiful Elizabeth. On the floor, hunched in on herself, arms wrapped around her knees she rocks herself. Her eyes are swollen with weeping, fiercely red against her pale face.She's terrified........ and Charlotte will keep her that way....Keep up the pretence....But the fear on her face is being nudged over by disbelief at what she sees. And at least for now, she's safe. Everyone is ignorin
A car crunches up the track, pulling into the yard. Mrs Collier looks out from the kitchen to see a uniformed police officer stepping out. She emerges, wiping soapy hands on a cloth."Afternoon officer. Is there something we can do for you?""Good afternoon Mrs…?""Collier.""Thank you." He takes a notebook from a pocket, jotting into it. "Good afternoon Mrs Collier. I'm looking for someone, a young woman by the name of Jennifer Conners. I understand she lives at this address. Is she around?""Jenny? No, she's not here." Mrs Collier frowns, pursing her lips. "Is she in some sort of trouble?""Nothing to worry about." The officer's smile is tight and somehow, not pleasant. "I just need a word with her. Got a couple of things we need to clear up. Where would I find her?" He swings his head around the yard, eyes invisible behind dark glasses."As I said, she's not here,"Something subtle shifts in his manner, an air almost of menace. He flips back a couple of sheets in the
Bech leans against the car, arms folded, pondering what best to do next.Klempner'll fuckin' fry me if I tell him I don't have the bitch....He looks up at the sound of footsteps. A young man, tall, blond, blue-eyed and unusually handsome approaches, then turns in to the Bennett house."Excuse me, would you be Chad Bennett?"He halts and turns. "Yes, that's right." He draws closer, looking surprised at first. "Why would a police officer be asking for me?""I'm asking in connection with Jennifer Conners. She's your wife I understand?"The man's eyes narrow. "Was my wife. What do you want with Jenny?""Was your wife? You're divorced?""If the papers haven't gone through yet, it'll happen any day. Now, why are you asking about Jenny? Has something happened to her?""We're trying to find her in connection with a series of recent petty thefts and scams."Chad snorts. "I don't believe that for a minute. You've got the wrong woman." Then he measures up the man in front of
RichardI'm pulled from my reverie by Charlotte's reply. "Yes, I would do that again. I couldn't leave Beth in here by herself. And I had to stop them realising that you were here."James' eyes soften, losing a little of their slit-eyed savagery. He glances across to Elizabeth, then back at Charlotte. "Beth is not your responsibility....""But she is," insists Charlotte. "She's my friend. It matters what happens to her. If you're going to punish me, then get on with it. I'd rather not wait, and I'm sorry for upsetting you, but I'm not sorry for what I did."His head tilts back, his gaze heading ceilingward for a few seconds, but the first blast of his rage is ebbing away. When he turns back to her, his voice is milder, although still with an edge."I haven't decided yet if I'm going to punish you. Astonishingly, I'd like to hear what you have to say."She looks up to him, meets his eye, then away again, blinking fast. "I didn't want Beth to get hurt." James' eyes flash t
RichardIt feels unreal. It can't possibly be real. The mind rejects such things. This isn't reality. It is the stuff of nightmares.The awful sight of James as the bullet impacts. His body jerking and jolting as he takes the shot intended for Charlotte. The agony and the shock when he cries out as he falls, unconscious, to lie in a pool of his own blood; a pool that spreads and grows, fed by the spurt of red where Corby's bullet speared into his flesh.Michael, gasping for breath, his blond hair dark with sweat, and eyes opaque with shock from the failure of his desperate attempt to bring Corby down before he could fire the shot.And Charlotte, howling in horror and disbelief, on hands and knees, covered in blood, James' blood, as she clutches and scrapes at his body.Is he dead?No....The blood is pumping....I have never seen Charlotte in anything like this condition. Always before, no matter how dire the situation, she has handled it. More than handled it. She has
JennyA lone figure steps from a bus.Simply dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt, long red hair tied back in a pony-tail, the figure drops a rucksack at her feet, looks right, then left, then all around.She doesn't look lost, more.... assessing....Remembering perhaps....Then, with a sigh, she swings the rucksack over her shoulder and steps out.*****The work isn't great, and neither is the pay, although there is a little extra for working the midnight shift.She cleans tables, clears dishes, serves cheap meals and hot drinks to late-night customers. And she is still working when the early shift-workers amble into the road, clearing garbage and rattling bins.*****Working behind the cafe bar, making up sandwiches and snacks, at first Jenny doesn't notice. The large screen over-looking the bar runs daytime TV, blarting out game results and gossip news, soaps and reality shows. Just now it is giving out some actual news, but she's really not listening. TV holds ve
JamesMichael takes a moment before speaking, then, ".... All through your life, you've had everything thrust upon you. Even meeting James and me, you chose to enter the auction, but you did that out of necessity. I'd like to know what you want. Now that you are free to choose for yourself, what is it that you want?"And he falls silent, watching her, and waiting as she looks around at everything about us....And I wonder what she sees. With everything that life has thrown at her, the horrors of her childhood, the terrors of her adulthood, and now to be here, in this lovely place, with the home she always yearned for.And is that enough for her?She gestures around, hands trying to encompass it all. "What more could I want? We're all here, at last, together. I have you both. I have what I want."Yes!Result!Michael's eyes shift to mine....Definitely....She sees us, knows what is going on, and leans in to Michael as he kisses her. "I think I'm going to ask you to
Charlotte sits in the office facing Mr Chambers. He's middle-aged and pleasant enough, and clearly doing his best to make her feel at ease. Nonetheless, her embarrassment is excruciating and she can't look him in the face."Can I get you a cup of tea, Miss Conners? Or coffee perhaps?"Her throat tight. "No, thank you."If she tried to drink right now, she would bring it right back up again."Very well. I understand you would like to enter our auction for the sale of...." He picks up a sheet and reads.... 'The services of 'Charlotte' for the period of one week, those services to include anything required of her by her purchaser and also to include the sale of her virginity.' Is that correct?"She squeezes the word out. "Yes."He places the document on the table. "I should explain Miss Conners, that whilst you might find it easier to have a female representative to work with right now, here at the auction house we feel that a girl who cannot go through this interview with a m
RichardAt one of these interminable 'drinks dos' I am expected to attend, I do my best to put on a polite face. But I'm having trouble.I have the mayor on one side, "Since the plans were made public for the new City-Scape layout the share value has soared, Richard...."And my head of corporate law on the other. "There are still some legal obstacles to overcome...." argues Lazenby.I am unsympathetic. "That's what I pay you for."What I pay you a lot for........ So, stop whining and do your job.Listening to the mayor droning on, I nod politely, trying to appear interested but, in fact, my attention is half on the gathering at the other side of the room.As Charlotte and Elizabeth are chatting by the bar. Michael arrives, strolling across the lounge with that easy half-smile that is his habitual expression. Charlotte spots him and moves aside to make room for him."Hi, Michael." Elizabeth's eyes are bright as she looks up at him.He returns the smile. "Hi, Beth. L
Richard"But you've been running 'Life and Fitness' in the City for years.… and turning a healthy profit, surely?""Yes, but you know how it is since two thousand and seven. All the banks have tightened up the rules."Bloody bastards at the banks....Pretty perfect for me though....How to approach this…??James said he has a problem accepting help........ Carefully...."Ummm.…Take this the right way, but I'd be happy to help."Glass in hand, Michael freezes, knuckles. His voice is barely polite. "Thanks, Richard, but I'm not a charity."James' meets my eyes again with a 'Told you' look. He laughs softly. "Now, who's suffering from stiff-necked pride?" Michael gives him a look that should have dissolved him on the spot, but James simply gives him a mild look, sucking at his teeth as he tries to extract a bit of peanut.I follow Michael's lead, keeping my own tone cool. "It wasn't a charitable offer, Michael. I'm a businessman. It was a proposal."He flush
JamesAs we leave, Richard murmurs, "Keep your face straight.""You might have warned me....""What? That you were my ace-in-a-hole?" Despite his advice, Richard's mouth is twitching. "Not a chance. It worked out so much better that you were surprised when he finally realised who you are."I glance over my shoulder to see that we are safely out of range, then stop and turn to face him. "Richard, who am I? I'm an architect. A good architect granted, but...."He lays a hand on my shoulder. "You, my friend, are the architect who will have changed the face of the City. Not many can make that claim. Your immortality is going to be standing as evidence around us for generations to come."It's an interesting thought."I never expected to be famous."He rocks a hand back and forth. "Perhaps not with the Common Man, but I looked through those Get-Well cards at the hospital. Did you?""Er, no.""You should. I asked Michael to keep them for when you left the hospital; for when
JamesMy mobile rings: Richard."James, I was having a word with Charlotte earlier. She's a little upset that the university is kicking up a fuss over the way her course options are moving around. The training periods, academic time and so on. It was all supposed to be arranged, but apparently, they're giving her a hard time over it.""Yes, I thought something like this might crop up. Did you have something in mind?""Absolutely. I know where this is coming from. The Chancellor, Wilmore, is fine, but the Bursar is an interfering busybody with an inflated sense of self-worth, who pokes his nose into every aspect of university life, whether it belongs there or not. If he didn't have tenure he'd have been out years ago.""So…?""First, I like you to have a word with Charlotte...."*****The crook of my thumb and forefinger under her chin, I force her face to mine, "Charlotte, is it that you want to attend the university? Or that, in a couple of years' time, you simply want
James"So how did it go?"Michael prises the cap off a beer bottle on the edge of the table then gulps down from the neck before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "It was.... surreal."I'm up and about and able to walk now, at the level of using the bathroom without the intervention of a nurse. Nonetheless, Michael's return is an excuse for me to climb back into bed, take the weight from my aching leg and draw a surreptitious sigh, which he pretends not to notice.And I'm happy enough to be here. Back in the beach house, the environment is soothing and convinces me to sleep more than I could have done in the renovation/building site which is our mountain home, even were we able to return there.I prop myself up against the pillows and Michael reaches around, rearranging them for me. When I'm settled comfortably, "Go on. I'm listening.""Cutting a long story short, Klempner admitted to murdering Charlotte's father, seemed to have some kind of crisis over her looking
KlempnerJennifer's face....The loathing there when he says that....The idea that she might be anything to do with me........You're Conners' daughter........ Not mine…Blondie's still speaking… "And your final revenge on her was to steal the child, to force her to grow up into slavery herself.... To fit your idea of...."I claimed you........ Mine........ My due........ My redress....Blondie is still talking.... "And when you found she'd grown up to look like her mother, you became obsessed with it again, determined to have the daughter forced into a life that the mother had already told you repelled her...."And I remember the disgust in her eyes....My beautiful Mitch........ Looking at me like shit on a shoe...."Is she alive? Charlotte's mother?" Blondie asks.I can't stomach looking at him. "I've no idea. The police gave her a new identity, hid her from me. I couldn't find her, and I've not seen her for over twenty years. But if she's not s
KlempnerHer face twists...."You still don't want to believe me? She was very good at her job. Good enough that, at first, we didn't realise she was a professional. We thought she was just being.... friendly. And I'll admit, when I set eyes on her, I thought she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen...."..... Mitch's daughter....Blondie's knuckles on her shoulder whiten. ".... So did Frank. We took a room for the night and.... well, you know the script from there. You've had two guys together often enough I'm sure...."Her face sets. "So, what then?""She was fun to be with. Not just a good fuck, but actually good company. We both liked her. And she seemed to like us.... Really like us I mean, rather than just pretend to because that's part of the job description. In the morning, we took her number, and later, we called her back. It went from there. We'd meet up with her a couple of nights a week. It became regular. And then.…"Blondie breaks in, his voice low. "A