CharlotteIt hurts. Oh God.... It hurts.Master. Where are you?Michael...Momma...I'm cold...I'm so cold.They'll come. They'll come...Stay calm...The pain ripples over my stomach and I writhe, curling around myself as, inside, my body clenches and spasms... And with the contraction, my lungs pulse out another fit of coughing, racking my chest and throat.Oh God... Come soon...Please come soon...*****JamesBack home, Klempner broods in silence, staring at the pinned-up face on the wall; the 'medic', as I tell the tale of our encounter with Finchby"So, do you believe him?" asks Richard... "Klempner? Klempner... Are you with us at all?"Klempner seems to jerk back to reality. "Sorry... lost in thought, there. But no, not necessarily. His story doesn't sound right. As I told James here, Finchby's sharp. A bit of misdirection would be just his style. Baxter has no cause to be at odds with me. I didn't abandon him. He wasn't there to be abandoned. Th
JamesA phone rings, Michael's.He glances at the screen, then curses. "It's Lucy on reception," he snarls. "I told her we weren't to be disturbed."He stabs a finger at the mobile. "Yes?" His tone is savage. "Lucy, my instructions were clear that... What? Speak up would you... Oh..." He goes rigid. "Right... Um, yes, bring it to the house, please." He rattles a breath. "Lucy, my apologies. Yes... Of course you did the right thing."He taps the phone off again, takes a moment. "Lucy says that a package has been delivered by special courier. It's addressed to... The 'Red-Headed Whore's Pimp.'"Bile rises in my throat. Mitch whimpers.Michael continues, "She says as soon as she realised, she put it in a plastic bag to avoid fingerprints. And she picked up a couple of pairs of latex gloves from the kitchen.""Probably too late for that," comments Klempner. "If they're pros, they'll have wiped it anyway, and since then it's been through God-knows-how-many pairs of hands."
CharlotteThe green indicator winks out and I collapse onto my side, trying to find a position that relieves the pain.As the next contraction takes me, I scream... But...They're coming...*****Michael"James, copy the screen recording to my laptop please. Can you trace the source of those messages?"He swipes a hand over his mouth. "it's not likely. The most that's generally traceable would be the IP for the server of origin. And that doesn't tell you much. It's likely the signal was routed via Delhi or Buenos Aires or who-knows-the-fuck-where... They're bound to have covered their tracks. But I'll try. Maybe we'll get lucky."I take a couple of deep breaths. "Let's have another look at the video." I tap it onto 'loop'. "Klempner, did you pick anything up? You seemed to be listening hard.""I thought I might recognise the voice, but no...I didn't.""Oh my God! Look!" Beth, one hand clapped over her mouth; with the other, she aims a shaking finger at the screen. E
This Book Is Dedicated To 'Him'"James' Poem" Was, In Real Life, Written By 'Him'For His Own GrandsonHostageRichardI watch them drive away, taillights receding into the dark. Depressed beyond measure, I let the curtains fall back, turning to deal with the two women now in my care.Mitch, calmer than I've seen her for days, returns from the kitchen, tray in hand. She pours peppermint tea for herself, then two more cups. She slides one across the table to Elizabeth, then brings one to me."Thank you, Mitch, but I don't really care for it."She holds still, hand and cup outstretched. "It will calm you down.""I'm perfectly calm, thank you.""Is that why you're wearing a hole in the carpet?"Elizabeth turns her face away, but not before I see the smile she's hiding behind her own cup. Then her smile fades."My apologies, Mitch. This goes against the grain for me. It really, really goes against the grain. Charlotte in trouble. James and Michael... Even Lawren
MichaelThe night is icy, the ground slick with frost and a breeze, slight though it is, bites at fingers and ears, even through the gloves and the woollen caps both Klempner and I are wearing.Slipping from one shadow to another, we skirt the luridly lit front entrance of Club Electric, moving around the side."Don't slip on the ice," mutters Klempner. "You'd end up in the canal."The water, black and unwelcoming, ripples sluggishly, assorted unsavoury-looking objects bobbing at the surface."No, thanks... How are you planning on getting inside? I'm assuming you weren't planning on the front door.""No. He probably has the back covered too.""Fire escape?"Klempner shrugs, noncommittally. "Maybe.""So, what then?"He brandishes the wooden carrycase he's been toting since he first arrived with his armoury."And that is...?"He kneels, unclipping the case. It opens into two halves, lying flat, to reveal inside what looks like a gun, sort of, and various component
JamesThe message from Charlotte's abductors...Finchby...Baxter...... replays in my head...Marsh Street under Barnbridge Road overpass 9pmBring the moneyNo police. No other people or she diesIf late she dies. So does the babyBrandy and rage burn inside me.The bag containing the ransom money swings heavy in my hand. I'm the decoy and at some level, I know I may not come out of this alive. Klempner's Kevlar vest gives me a little comfort, but it's the fury inside that warms me against fast falling temperatures.I should be afraid...But I'm not.Jade-Eyes...My beautiful Jade-Eyes...And Cara... Your gift to me...Since the day I met Charlotte, my Virgin, we have helter-skeltered from one crisis to another...Her past has constantly pursued her, ruling her, robbed her of what she deserves. None of it her fault, she has simply been the survivor of everything life has dealt her.Would I change any of it?No. Nothing.Charlotte's past is
MichaelRemoving two dozen slates makes a gap comfortably big enough to take a man and incidentally exposes the timbers. There's no question of how to anchor the rope this time."You realise we're probably invalidating Finchby's building insurance."Klempner whistles in. "What a shame." We peer down into Stygian darkness. "How far down you think? Twenty-five... Thirty feet?""It can't be more than that if the windows outside are anything to go by."This time on the rope, I'm much more in control.It's a straightforward climb down, the rope snagged by hand, thighs and crooked around one foot, and my body mass working for me rather than against, hand over hand, I descend into gloom. As my feet touch floor, the slight noise reverbs with the feel of a large empty space.Blind-sighted in the darkness, the faint lines of external light seep through eaves. Almost as I land, the rope shivers in my hand as Klempner also descends, coming at speed and I step smartly to one side a
JamesDespite the cold, my heated face streams sweat which soaks down my neck and into my clothes.Slow down, Man...You can't sprint for a mile...I drop to a trot and my heartbeat decelerates to something more sustainable. The banging behind my ears subsides.Don't panic...The kidnappers may say Don't be late, but their priority is the money.Irony slaps me around the cheeks. Here I am, in an area I wouldn't normally consider walking at night, certainly not alone. And I'm running through it, toting a bag containing a cool million in cash.The steady rhythm of my jogging sets a metronome ticking in my head, clearing my thoughts.How fast is a jog?Six miles an hour?So, I should cover my mile in the ten minutes I have.Calm down...Nonetheless, I find myself counting paces; eating up distance with each one...They must be watching me...Where are they watching from?A parked car?Some alley I pass, where they can lurk in the darkness?Could be anyw
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