KlempnerMy phone...Quickly, I power down, remove the SIM, snap it in two, then four, and drop plastic-and-metal shards in my pocket. Julia's hammer serves a useful purpose smashing the phone itself, but that's hardly enough.A quick search of the kitchenette produces a roll of aluminium foil. Several layers wrapped around produce an effective Faraday cage and make the phone effectively invisible.And now, I need to hole up for a few days. Get out of sight. And... I need to make a call.A cheap hotel. Somewhere inconspicuous. Somewhere with internet. Somewhere they don't pay the staff too much.Out on the street, a morning north-easterly whistles around me, nipping at face and fingers. My stomach growls and belatedly, I realise I'm hungry.The aroma of the food of the gods wafts by and I follow my nose to a street-vendor. Swathed in layers of woollens and with a scarf pulled over his face to the nose, he could come from some Dickensian image of London. But his stall cons
JamesI tap and my daughter's voice replies. "Come in. It's open."Pressing the handle down with an elbow, I nudge the door open with the tray. "Good morning," I say, injecting into my voice as much cheerfulness as I know how. "Breakfast. I thought we might eat together."Georgie smiles from her seat at the dresser where, looking fresh and a little pink from the shower, she is brushing out her long hair. Born in my physical image, her hair as dark as mine: at least, as dark as mine used to be.Trying not to be obvious about it, I look her over.Still pale...... but the dark rings under her eyes are fading..."Hi, Dad. Yes, I'd love to have breakfast with you." She's smiling, but her voice is subdued."I brought croissants and coffee. Keep it light. I thought we might have lunch together later? I reserved a table for us by the picture window in the restaurant downstairs.""Lunch? Yes, that would be great..." That not-quite-a-smile again.Masking something... "How
KlempnerIn Arrivals, the baggage carousel takes fucking ages to produce anything at all. After fifteen minutes, it vomits a small overnight case from the chute which travels a 360 circuit, drawing no more attention than muttering and complaints from the waiting crowd.The ceilings are low and the air suffocating.Could murder a beer...Bored, I lean against a wall, ankles crossed, fishing my phone from a pocket.Anything new?A message pops up: James.Hmmm...The last time we spoke, he blasted me out for fucking up his life.The Sender has requested a Read Receipt - Yes/No?I let my finger hover, then tap, Yes.Shading the screen with a cupped hand against possible observers, I read James' message. Then, I re-read it.Grandad K?There's a thought that hadn't occurred to me.Still... I think I rather like the idea of being Grandad K.A slightly silly smile skirts my lips and firmly, I suppress it.Should I reply??No, too many complications. As Jame
Downloading Finchby's database of invoices, I scour through for the most likely follow-ups for Baxter. After a couple of hours, armed with a shortlist of a dozen likely addresses and my new mobile which seems finally to have run through its downloads, I'm ready to go.Take a taxi?No.Don't leave a trail...It's a long walk, but the upside is that I get to explore Sao Paulo on foot, always the best way to see anywhere new. The loose linen suit I'm wearing, appropriate to the temperature and humidity, is a roomy fit, so there's plenty of space for my gun holster and other equipment.Check the Glock into its holster...... Knife...... Hat on...... Sunglasses...A quick check in the mirror...English...... Tourist...... Harmless...Time to move...The hotel door closes behind me with a click. Plucking a hair, I lick my thumb, then spit-plaster the hair into place about a foot from the floor, bridging the crack between door and frame. If the door opens while
RichardMy friend, Will Stanton, the police commissioner, has called by in person to deliver his news. None of us are happy about it.Will stands, arms folded, sucking at his teeth. "Richard, you know I'll do whatever I can, but I have budgets to keep to. If Klempner's out of the country now, there's a good argument to say that the danger to Charlotte and Georgie, and whoever else, has moved on. I'm going to have a tough case to answer, keeping a police guard here for much longer."Elizabeth, sandwiched between Mitch and Charlotte on the settee, widens her eyes. I'm not happy that Will chose to deliver this here and now, within the hearing of my pregnant wife. She's all but at term and I don't like her getting upsetJames wears a face like a thundercloud. "The original attack on Charlotte happened before Klempner arrived here. And was planned long before that."Will is stony-faced. "Be that as it may, we all know those events were about drawing Klempner out. That's been done
CharlotteI love being a Mom.From her bundle of fleece and wool, Cara looks up into my face, her eyes fixing on me in a way that they didn't when she was first born. Her features have lost that squashed-up look she had at first, filling out to more of the true 'Winston Churchill' look of young babies.My baby...So beautiful...There's never been anything so beautiful in the whole world...... But when she was new-born, she was a beautiful, little squashed-up red prune.Cara held close to my breast, she suckles contentedly...Wonder how long it'll be before she does more than eat and sleep?However wonderful My Baby might be, the novelty of breast-feeding is wearing off fast. Bored, Cara supported in one arm, I browse my tablet, scrolling the feed with a thumb.Somehow, they have gotten hold of my email address and my In-Box is bombarded with ads for milk substitutes, nappies, early learning for babies... Jabbing my thumb at the offending posts, I delete one after
JamesIn the kitchen, pushing bacon around a pan, I ponder how to square the circle and re-introduce Georgie and Charlotte. The fact is that Georgie created the whole hornets' nest herself by being so appallingly rude, not just to me, but Charlotte too, the first time they met.But if I truly want any kind of future relationship with my daughter... my elder daughter... I need to get the pair of them, if not friendly, at least polite with each other.Richard and Beth descend the stairs, she leaning heavily on him for support. She sits clumsily, trying to find a comfortable position so she can eat.Fanning her face, "I can barely reach the table over my stomach." She's laughing but the laugh sounds strained and she runs hands over her enormous belly. "I'll be glad when Adam arrives and I can get back to being able to move again.Charlotte looks up from where she is giving Cara her breakfast. "Know what you mean. I tell you, it's a real relief afterwards, getting back to feeling
Charlotte"Charlotte, it's a beautiful day..." My Master stands by the nursery door, wearing the jeans and boots he uses for riding, and a thick cable-knit sweater... "...I'm going to take Oliver out. Want to come?"It is indeed a lovely day, with a crisp snap to the air. And the sunshine is that brilliant clear white you only get in cold winter weather."I'd love to. And Charlie could use the exercise. Um..." I look down to my tiny daughter, blinking at the mobile rotating above her in the cot, trying, with unformed muscles, to reach for a glitter-pink unicorn."I'll keep an eye on Cara." My Mom smiles from her rocking chair next to mine. "She'll probably sleep anyway.""Can you give me five minutes, just while Cara drops off?""Of course I can." My Master takes the few steps to bring him close to me, then reaches down with a long finger, stroking Cara's cheek. His face might seem impassive to any that didn't know him, but I see the hidden smile behind his eyes. Our daught
It's cold outside, but Klempner sits on the low terrace wall wearing no more than a thin pullover."Want one of these?" I proffer a coffee, heavily laced with whiskey, topped with thick cream.He startles, but then, "Thank you, James." He doesn't smile. His eyes are soft with melancholy as he stares down, watching October mist curling over the lake."Will you visit the grave?""Yes." The single word isn't followed by any others."When will you go?""Sooner rather than later." He breathes steam and fragrant alcohol. "I'm making arrangements now. The Canadian winter arrives early and in force. It'll be under six feet of snow there very soon, and for the next several months.""Would you mind some company?"He twists to face me. "You want to come?""I'd like to pay my respects to the brave woman for whom my daughter is named."He blinks, nodding as he casts his gaze down. "Thank you, James. I appreciate that.""Charlotte wants to go as well."And now he smiles. I
JamesFamily...All gathered together around the breakfast table: Michael to the left of Charlotte, I'm to her right, bouncing Cara on my knee while Charlotte takes a break to get some food down her throat. Beyond Michael, Beth feeds Adam, Richard flanking them.Klempner and Mitch sit side by side. She's turned discreetly away, feeding Vicky. Larry watches, still wearing that slightly spaced-out expression...Man-in-shock?For all the right reasons...Charlotte is very quiet. She eats, but her gaze sweeps the table and back again.Once she had nothing...Briefly, her eyes lock with her father's. He cocks his head, eyes full of question, but then her gaze moves on.What's he thinking?It's not hard to figure. Right from the time Klempner arrived back with us, although he's clearly content to be here, he's had an air of... waiting...The Rat-Tat! of the front door rattles down the hall.Michael pushes his chair back. "I'll go." A half-eaten slice of toast in one h
RichardMy intercom buzzes. "Yes, Francis?""I have the police commissioner on for you, Mr Haswell. He... doesn't sound very happy."I can guess what this is going to be about. I've been waiting for it. "Thanks for the warning, Francis. Put him through please..." The line clicks and reconnects. "Richard?""Good morning, Will. What can I do for you?""I think you can guess why I'm calling you. I'm hearing rumours I don't like. Disturbing rumours.""I believe, Will, that I know which rumours you mean. I've been wanting to discuss them with you. Perhaps you would like to meet for lunch to discuss the matter? Somewhere quiet? ""And away from the office? Yes, I think so."*****The waiter sets a plate in front of each of us, steak in pepper sauce for Will, a prawn souffle for me. He tops up the glasses of Cabernet. "Is there anything else, sir?""No, thank you. That's perfect." I wait until he is out of earshot before I speak. "So, Will...These disturbing rumours?
KlempnerThe view is restful. Living in Mitch's small apartment, hidden away from the world, does...... I suppose...... constitute 'domestic bliss'. But that's at night. For much of the day, we spend our time in the main family home of Jenny's Triad. The women chatter and gossip. The men alternate between business and banter. One or other of the babies always needs attention...It's exhausting.But when it comes to it, that's not the root of my problem.Retreating from noise and activity and 'family-fun' to the sanctuary of the terrace, I let the view wash away the anxiety gnawing at the back of my mind.It's always the waiting...Give me action and some lunatic with a gun every time...Stay calm...Mist curls over the lake far below. On the slopes close by, every blade of grass is etched with a rime of frost that will thaw to dew when the sun crests the mountain. Further down, the individual blades meld into a smooth sheet of silver that merge into haze and wa
Two coffeepots later, we've run out of croissants and moved onto toasted muffins. James slices one in two, dropping the halves into the toaster. He pauses, "Another one, Beth?"She's sitting up against the headboard, next to Charlotte, the two propped up against each other, eating from a shared plate. Beth slathers butter and blackberry jam onto what she has. "Thanks, but I'm fine with this, James. I'll not eat again 'til suppertime.""Charlotte?""Mmmm..." She nods, mumbling through a mouthful, wiping a smear of melted butter from the corner of her mouth. She swallows, then holds up half a muffin - minus two bites. "What is it about muffins and bad weather? I always want more of them."James rolls a look at her, then to me, shaking his head...A wise man says nothing...Richard sucks jam from his fingers, lips smacking. "On a complete change of subject... Elizabeth and I were talking..." Beth falls still, her shoulders slumping... "... Please don't take this the wrong way,
MichaelIt's dark...What woke me?Somewhere down and beside me, the sound of whining. "Scruffy? You need to go out, boy?"At this hour?What the hell time is it?I'm snug and comfortable, draped with a thick duvet. Charlotte, warm and fragrant, sleeps tucked in beside me. Through the curtains, it's pitch-black.Scruffy whines again, this time scratching at the bed.Wonder if he's eaten something he shouldn't?Stretching an arm blindly out beyond the cosy comfort of the blankets, I pat across the side-table, hunting for the light switch. When I find it, as it turns out, it's not Scruffy's habit of eating every bit of rubbish he comes across that is at fault. The clock tells me it's half past seven and my rag-tag mongrel is making a perfectly reasonable request to be let out to relieve the pressures of the night.But outside, there's no sign of daylight and, joys of joys, rain lashes against the window.Goodbye to summer...Scruffy's whining ups by half an octave
JamesAn orderly tries to block the way, arms outstretched in front of the door. "Sir, you can't..."Klempner simply brushes by him.From beyond, Mitch's voice. "Let him in..."The orderly spins, mouth open. "What? All of them?""Yes!!!! Ah... Fuccckkkk...."The monk's feet skid uselessly over the polished floor as he tries to resist his inexorable forward journey into the delivery room. His voice rises to a wail. "But I'm not a priest. I can't do this." Klempner growls, "I don't care if you're a priest, a rabbi, an imam, or if you ran the Bring-and-Buy at the church garden party. The lady here wants our child born in wedlock. You're going to marry us."Klempner turns his attention to Mitch, lying on her back on the delivery table, yelling her way through another contraction. She flings out an arm, grabbing at his wrist. He winces, but lays his other hand on top. "We'll just let this one pass..."The midwife, checking a bleeping monitor, flashes a look at Mitch. "Yo
RichardMy mobile bleeps: James.Landed. at airport now. home approx 90 mins. Tell Mitch he's keenElizabeth grins at me as I tap in the reply.don't go home. come city hospital. Mitch in labourThere's a short pause...Elizabeth holds up her hand, counting down silent fingers: Five... Four... Three... Two...... and my mobile bleeps again.When M go into labour?3 hrs doc and midwife say early but all normal all goodWith you ASAP K got taxi flying on wings of fire*****The corridor is painted the required institutional off-white, scraped black in long stripes at trolley-bed height. The lighting is the compulsory harsh fluorescent white. One strip blinks on and off. Signs point off down apparently identical corridors: Intensive Care... Reception... A & E... Chapel and Prayer Room... Radiology... Cardiology... Breast Screening...How many ways is it possible to be sick?Footsteps echo along the corridor; marching footsteps, almost stampeding footsteps.A
KlempnerAt last, I get some privacy with her. James ushers out Jenny, protesting all the way. Michael leaves too, turning as he exits to give me a kind of approving nod.Haswell poured glasses of champagne, passing them around at their side of the screen, although I did notice that he poured for Mitch from a different bottle. The top of the flute is just in view, spitting the odd bubble over the rim."Are you alone now?"She looks sidelong, off-screen. "Yes, they've gone.""What's Kirstie doing there?""I'm fitting her for her wedding dress. They've set the date for Christmas, remember.""I didn't know that.""Oh... no... Of course you wouldn't." She takes a sip of her bubbly, looking away. "It's been so long. They said you were dead. The police said there was a body.""There was, but not mine."She peers into the screen, searching my face. "How are you? What happened?""I'll tell you sometime, but not now. What's important, is how you are and..." I nod down, bel