Blue lights flash. Sirens are wailing. His fingers tapping at the wheel, James drops to a normal driving speed. "Klempner, get your head down. Don't let yourself be seen.""James...""Shut the fuck up! I've already had enough from you this evening." The words rattle out of him. "Where's your knife?""My knife?""Yes, your knife. The one you keep in the sheath at the back.""As you say, it's in the sheath.""Show me.""James... What..?"This doesn't feel like mere annoyance or embarrassment. There's no mistaking his fury. "Just fucking show me."What the hell's going on?As we ease past the bar, James jerks a thumb towards the blue-flashing chaos. "There's a dead man inside there with a knife stuck in his chest. Your knife.""Rubbish. My knife is..." Stooped low in the car seat, keeping my face away from the betraying lights, my position is awkward as I swipe around myself for the blade I habitually carry...... and find an empty sheath."It's not there, is it?
JamesWe arrive back home. I'm bone tired. Michael walks with a slump. Klempner moves like a zombie, except that I don't think zombies suffer from violent shivering.Mitch is waiting for us. As we enter through the front door heading for the lounge, she bursts from the kitchen, intercepting us. Her eyes are wide with warning. "James...""That's enough, Miss Kimberley," barks a voice. My heart sinks. It's not as though I don't know the owner of the voice.Will Stanton emerges from the lounge; armed and uniformed officers behind him. More pour out from the dining room. He stabs fingers in all directions. "You, you and you. You're at the doors. No-one comes in or out of this house without my say-so first.He turns to another... "You..." then aims a finger at Klempner... "will watch this man. That is your only duty. You will not take your eyes from him. If he moves without my permission, you will raise the alarm. If he tries to run, you will shoot him."Then he turns back to
Twenty-Two Years AgoA woman in uniform approaches a large building, holding the hand of a small ginger-headed child. Steps lead up to solid timber double-doors with the kind of locks suggesting that once closed, these doors do not open again easily.The child is perhaps six years old, and the hair, beyond ginger, is, brilliantly orange, straight and short, sticking out at different angles, none of which have much to do with the angle of the head.There is a thin pale face under attack from a swarm of freckles which threaten to merge into one large freckle. The child is small and slight, and it would be uncertain if it were male or female except that the enormous green eyes say this is a girl.And she's crying.She struggles to break away, digging in her heels and having to be dragged up every step. "Please, no... no.""Come on, Jennifer. Behave yourself for once."A billboard by the entrance towers above the little girl. It displays cartoon cows and sheep playing in a me
Thirteen Years Ago.Jenny stands in line with the others, Mr Klempner looking them over. Lips pursed, he casts a toxic glance at Supervisor Jenkins, who straightens up in a poor copy of attention.Mr Klempner passes to the end of the line first. The boy there is small, blond and blue-eyed, pretty enough to be a girl. Far prettier than Jenny.Mr Klempner hunkers down to the boy's level, hitching up his trousers at the knee. "And what's your name?""Pieter, sir." The voice is piping, an accent edging through the words.Mr Klempner Hmmms in satisfaction. "You have a nice voice, Pieter. A nice face too. I know someone who will like you."Then he moves to the next in line: a girl. She's older, with a round face and blotchy skin. He tips up her chin to get a better look. "Mmmm... Can't say the same about you, can we? Face like a potato. You're never going to be pretty."The girl squeezes her eyes closed. Her shoulders shaking, she looks away. Mr Klempner isn't interested. He mo
MichaelJames' expression is stricken. "Will... Georgie... My daughter... I have to...""No!" Stanton stabs a finger at him again, eyes white-rimmed against his dark skin. "Not until I've gotten to the bottom of what's happened this evening."James sits, resting his face into his hands. I lay a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs me away.Stanton turns, aiming the finger at the officer covering Klempner. "Lopez, don't relax with that one. He has a track record of escape.""Sir!" The gun muzzle raises from the room corner to point toward Klempner.He stands close by the hearth, by the heat. Mitch is right. He looks like he's been through a war. His face is bruised, swelling in places, and long scratches seep blood on one cheek. His clothes are bloodstained and drenched, steaming in the heat of the flames. He must be chilled to the bone. Certainly, he's shivering violently. By Klempner's feet, Bear shoves his snout against him, whining. Without appearing to be aware of what h
Klemper stirs, about to answer, but before he does, Richard coughs, raising a finger. "If I may..."Holding Beth by the shoulders, he presses her back into her seat, squeezes her fingers, then stands. "Will... Commissioner Stanton if you prefer... I understand you may feel you have cause for anger with me, but I would like you to listen to what everyone here has to say before you jump to any conclusions. We have no reason to believe that Klempner is being anything but truthful."Stanton's face clouds. Extending an arm towards Klempner, "He's a known murderer, trafficker and God-knows-what else. When he first appeared on the scene, I stood back, taking no action on your say-so. After what has happened this evening, you are still standing by this man? You are so certain that he had no hand in the stabbing?"Richard straightens up, eye-balling his erstwhile friend. "Yes, I'm sure.""Why?" Stanton's chin juts. "You weren't there, were you? Or were you? Is there something you would
I try to catch James' attention, but he steadfastly refuses to meet my eye.Klempner recovers himself. "That's right. I was carrying the knife when I left here in the early evening. However, when James asked me several hours later, it wasn't in its sheath.""So... you're telling me that someone, in effect, picked your pocket?" Stanton radiates scepticism. "And you didn't notice? That sounds unlikely."Klempner shrugs. "James made much the same comment. But the bar was crowded, packed tight. People were jostling me all the time, to the point it was getting on my nerves. In retrospect, I can think of several occasions when someone might have lifted the knife. There could well be others that don't come to mind." He rubs the side of his nose, meets Will's eye. "Is there any CCTV for the bar? You might catch something on there."Will nods. "I've already requested it. Forensics are looking at it right now. But there's a lot to get through, with the other footage we have." He glances
Will rocks on his feet. "You realise, of course, it would have been helpful if you had told me all this from the start?"Richard's voice is dry. "And how could we have explained the source of much of the information?" His eyes roll to Klemper. "It was difficult to be explicit."Will regards him sidelong. "Alright, granted. Baxter, and whoever the woman is, when they escaped into the airport, where do you think they could be headed?""We know Baxter has a base in South America," says Klempner. "He worked for me, running my operation down there for years."Will gives him a slow look. "Is that right? Still..." He sucks at his teeth... "... We'd come to that conclusion ourselves after going through the documentation on Finchby's laptop." Then he shrugs. "However, we can only get so far of course. Most of his records are clearly stored in the cloud and for that, we need the passwords.""Ah..." Klempner shifts... "Perhaps I can help with that."Will's colour rises again. "Are you
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