Hot Revenge Box Set 2

Chapter 4

*****

 

Michael

Removing 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 as I realise he's all but on top of me.

He lands lightly. “Can't believe it's all going to be this easy.”

The air smells, not exactly stale, but unused. Revolving through three-sixty, the only light is the faintest of gleams, a fine line marking the eaves.

Also from above, a slight rustling…

Roosting birds?

From below, the floor vibrates to the bass thump of overloud music.

“Still got Beethoven’s Fifth Racket playing,” mutters Klempner from the gloom beside me.

“Useful for us though. He’ll not hear us coming with that going on.”

“Too right. I think we can risk a little light.”

With a click, the narrow beam of an LED flashlight cuts through the air, producing a startled flapping from above. To one side of us, the cracked plaster and paint of a wall, the beam painting threads and dots of light over webs and dust. But as the beam swings, it illuminates receding plaster then vanishes into darkness.

“A single open space?”

“It is a warehouse. Or was.”

Klempner gestures with the light. “That way is the front of the building, the main entrance and stairwell.” He swings the beam the opposite way. “So, let's follow the wall that way and see if we can find another stairwell. A place this size must have more than one.”

The torchlight aimed at the floor, we follow the line of the wall, stepping over the remains of ancient birds’ nests and small heaped cones of guano.

Almost immediately we come to a plain timber door; no lock, no complications beyond the weavings of the local spiders over the handle. On the wall beside it, a metal plaque in what might be brass under the patina. 'C-Bay'.

The handle resists turning, but only with the groan of long disuse. And the hinges complain as the door swings slowly open to reveal a small room beyond...

… then stepping through, stairs leading both up and down.

Klempner aims the torch upwards. “Presumably our roof access door is at the top. Wait here. I'll check. If we need to make a fast exit that way, it'll be nice to know what's there.”

He disappears up into shadow, the sound of his booted feet surprising quiet. For a tall man, he walks lightly. From downstairs, the bass thump is louder.

minute, Klempner descends again. “It can be opened from the inside. Simple turn-key and bars. But

rucksack from his shoulder, takes out his weapon, a machine

ask me to bring the axe? It's not exactly a

turns dry… “… and I know what you did to two of my men with one a couple of years

them after Charlotte. It was December. We had to escape into the snow. I was

I didn’t know that.” He slides to a half-smile, looking sheepish. “Sorry about

might be a

but you’ve come a long

that was two years ago… Almost to the day? And here we are,

irony for you. Let's head down.

*****

reach a landing; stairs up, stairs down, and a corridor off to

a finger to his lips… “Listen.” He cups an ear, head turning, first one way

low murmur of sound… Voices speaking from some distance away, just

along the corridor, then moving quietly, he follows

hand, ready to swing. “Any idea where we

murmur, “I think we’re heading

to be

the rear. Normally I’d have entered

got a rear

was never in there, but he’d send someone through that way when

a door, abruptly, we must

garbage competes with stale tobacco. Flies hum over an overflowing trash can,

open, spilt crumbs being investigated by bottle-green

working as he

open?” I mutter. “You'd think the City authorities would shut him down for something.

two of the great and good in your pocket to get past that kind of

“As you would know.”

unabashed. “Yes. As I would

where we entered. The voices are just on the other

“You've done well, Lena…”

question on my face and

are going to pay me,

am, Lena. We had

see. After a second,

tumbler. An open laptop casts a glow brighter than the daylight which

woman sitting opposite. She accepts both cigarette and the offered flame, inhales, blows blue smoke, then sits with the cigarette poised between

Beth spotted on the

are, Lena. Five thousand,

Klempner and I jerk away before moving cautiously

met when he was driving for Klempner when we were rescuing Mitch and

Ben…

at my cheeks then morphs to

couldn’t have brought myself to kill my brother. Klempner did what

he’s

deposit on the rent for a nice place. Get yourself some decent furniture,

chin lifts.

displays yellow

in a flower shop. Nice work.

the background, Baxter raises a brow. Finchby

It's all going your way now. And all

leans forward. “You

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