MichaelI hold her close, her semi-naked body against mine. She's still quivering with the afterburn of climax and I cradle her. "Shhh..."She's still on some other planet, but her face pressing into my chest, she mumbles something then shifts to let me in closer, lying on her back, parting her legs. I roll over her, taking my weight on my elbows but still clasping her back. My shaft presses into the vee of her thighs, then the heat of her pussy. She's wet, almost fluid, and very obviously, still fully sensitised. My cockhead kissing into her, she shivers."How are you doing, Babe? Alright? You good for this?""Mmmm..." She doesn't seem to want to speak, but her arms slip around me, and she widens her thighs, inviting me in.With my cockhead anchoring to her, barely penetrating, I hold. "Soft or hard, Charlotte? What do you want?""You choose." She mumbles a bit, spaced-out, almost as if half-asleep, but I think it's just the euphoria of orgasm after-burn.Another one, Ba
KlempnerThe hottest part of the day... hot enough to have driven me indoors... In a coolish corner at Antonio's, my back to the wall, I can sit behind my newspaper but see everything around me.Scouring the daily papers for starting points and clues, then following through with my phone and tablet, my researches are yielding a clear picture of rival gangs, the growing power of organised crime in Sao Paulo and, threaded through it all, hints of where I might find my target.Photos, references, events, are all building a picture.A woman, clawing her way to the top, leaving a trail of male corpses behind her. The details vary: sometimes a shootout between rival gangs. Sometimes an 'accident', brake-failure. An overdose of cocaine crops up twice. One has died of some kind of poisoning, although there's no details on what kind. Outright assassination, a bullet in the forehead seems almost too obvious for her methods.Inconveniently, the newspapers fail to publish her home addres
Three hours later, it's been an instructive and productive afternoon.I've followed Wonder Boy through half the neighbourhood including, to my satisfaction, four more of the addresses on my list. And all of those on my address list not visited are a good distance away, certainly more than walking distance.So, I have my connection... Legitimate businesses held under the sway of racketeers and crime barons, too scared to resist having their addresses used for whatever purposes their overlords choose... and that's assuming they even know about it.The pieces of the jigsaw are dropping nicely into place.As evening falls, I'm still trailing Wonder Boy. He's not called anywhere new for a while and seems to be headed for some specific destination. His swagger's worn off and he's walking more slowly.How far's he going?I long since lost track of where I am, but I've set my mapping app to follow my progress. I'll be able to both find my way back to my hotel and return here wh
MichaelThe kitchen seems as good a place as any to wait. Given the endless supply of tea and coffee needed, why go anywhere else?Charlotte sits by the fire. "It's going to feel funny having a brother for Cara.""Not exactly a brother," says her mother. Mitch is on a knitting spree again, this time, a small blue hat.Charlotte ponders. "True, but Adam will feel like a brother, won't he."James puts a bottle of Cava in the fridge. "Something to celebrate with," he says."We'll need more than one..." I say... "... And... it's Richard we're talking about. I'll pop across to the hotel and get some champagne." He opens his mouth to protest and I hold up warding hands. "I know, it's the same, but Richard would prefer it. And it's his and Beth's day. Why don't you make sure we have plenty of ice for the bucket." "You're right." James lifts the lid of the freezer, rummaging inside."...Then you could make a pot of tea to take upstairs. If you give Richard any more coffee, the
JamesAdam is safely born. Beth is asleep. Richard too...Nervous exhaustion?Lol!It's quiet. And it's dark.And it's the first real chance I've had to sit quietly. To think...... To consider what Charlotte said.But... but... you sent me an email, with the link to the site and that photo. I went right through it. They had some lovely things. But I knew you liked that corset so I bought it.I turn the words over in my head.Not like her to fall for something like that... Way too canny...Too suspicious...So it must have been good....?It seemed to come from me...So, someone had my email address...And baited the message with something so perfect Charlotte had no reason to doubt it...And they... they...... they what?They sold her a corset...??Weird or what...Yes... What?How could they know her that well? To target her so well?*****"Charlotte, do you still have that email? The one you said I sent you. Or have you wipe
MichaelJames looks sick at heart. "They sent an email to Charlotte which appeared to come from me. And so of course, she responded to it. And because there was nothing amiss with any of the content and the link was to a trustworthy website, there was nothing for her security to pick up on..."Whoever did this, they've hacked a completely legitimate company, a supplier of lingerie and other perfectly innocent goods. Charlotte could have worked her way all around that website and the only damage would have been the spend on her credit card, until she hit that single image. And they ensured she would hit it by making it look like a request from me."After that, Charlotte replied to my email and I clicked it open. The fucking thing infected my system and I didn't spot a thing because I wasn't paying attention.""I don't follow all this," I say. "So what's this infection done, James?"He sucks at his cheeks, as though trying to work up saliva. Then, speaking as though making a co
Michael"I'm pregnant."Charlotte's mother chews at a lip as Beth holds her hand. "I... I thought I couldn't... I thought I was too old. I'm forty-eight for God's sake... When Larry was here, I didn't... I mean... we didn't..." She splutters to a halt and sits staring at her fingertips, picking at one thumbnail with the other. "You must think I'm stupid, letting something like this happen..." She slants eyes toward Charlotte... "... Again.""I see." I glance over towards James, still framed in the doorway, now gazing up at the ceiling, grimacing as he rubs the back of his neck."Interesting news, James," I say, twisting in my seat to face him. Out of Mitch's line-of-sight, I eye-point her, waving palms downwards...Cool it...Moving as though the earth might just cave in under me, I pull up a chair, sit by my 'mother-in-law'. "In the first place, Mitch, I don't think you're stupid. I can understand why..."Choose your words..."... why you might not have believed there
KlempnerIn one hand, I hold a single copper strand. In the other, a thread of brown.My body freezes as my mind races through the possibilities.I left my hotel room several hours earlier, slicking a hair into place over the crack between door and frame as I left. On my return, a hair was still in place and I entered my room assuming all was normal.Now, however, in my left hand, I hold a hair just plucked from my own scalp: the mousy-brown shade of my current identity.In the right hand, I hold the hair which dropped from my hotel room door as I returned, and which on casual inspection, I had taken to be the one I slicked into place as I left the room earlier.But the right-hand hair is red.And now I look at it, I recognise that shade: a deep burnished copper-auburn that many women aspire to, but few have.But Mitch has it. Jenny too;Could it come from one of them?Probably, yes.Jenny...Juliana, or at least her cat's-paws Baxter and Finchby, had Jenny unco
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