Michael

Mitch drives home. I’m exhausted. James and Klempner don’t look much different. From the back, it sounds as though Finchby has woken up. If he were still out, I don’t think he’d be squealing like a stuck pig.

After a while, Klempner speaks. “I need a little chat with Finchby there. Where would you like me to conduct his interview?”

There’s a thump from the trunk and he looks back then to Mitch. “It needs to be somewhere the women won’t hear. Is there one of your outbuildings I can use perhaps?”

Mitch glances sidelong. “Don’t worry about upsetting me. I’ll hold your coat.”

James, his expression savage, breaks in before I can reply. “We can do better than that.”

“Where?”

“Downstairs.”

It takes a moment for James’ meaning to sink in. “Downstairs? You mean…?”

“Yes. That’s what I mean.”

As we crunch onto the drive, Klempner produces another of the phial and syringe sets, pursing his lips as he draws the drug into the chamber, then tapping it. “James, Michael. Open the trunk and I’ll get him quiet again before we take him through your home.”

The trunk clicks open and the needle plunges into Finchby’s arm. The tape-masked shriek dies in his throat and…

“Give me a second,” I say. “Richard hinted he’d been up to something last night. Let me go see what’s happening.”

It’s as well I did. A blue-uniformed nurse is in the hall, discussing something on a clipboard with Richard. As he sees me, he steps smartly forward… “Ah… Michael…” He cups my elbow, easing me out of the door again. “Is everyone…?”

The question dies on his lips. “James. Klempner. I’m pleased to see you.” His gaze lingers on James damaged eyes, the slash, leaking red, on Klempner’s chest, then moves to the bound and unconscious Finchby. “Is that one of them?”

“Yes…” James heaves breath, then. “He was planning on prostituting Charlotte and selling Cara for organs. We need to ask him about where to find the other one. We’re taking him downstairs.”

Richard inhales. “You’d better bring him in around the back. We have a houseful here.”

Klempner reacts. “Police?”

“No. Medics. Doctors. Nurses. For both Charlotte and Elizabeth…. I… I had an eventful night too.”

“Is everything alright? Charlotte?”

“Yes, she’s fine. I’ll tell you later. Right now, she’s sleeping and I’d say likely to stay that way for some while yet. I have a nurse watching her and Cara while she sleeps herself out.” He glances back to the door, holding up a palm. “Give me two minutes to clear the hall, then come in through the back. Go straight down.”

have a

“I’m going to go see Jenny and the

closes behind him and we heft Finchby around the side of the house, in and

*****

Klempner

a basement passageway, rooms off to

is it.” James opens the door

supporting Finchby at the shoulders, says, “You sure

Can you think of a better

exhales. “But fuck’s sake,

her knowing about any of

“Suits me.”

Michael and I heft the unconscious Finchby through

Fuck me…

Don’t show surprise…

does James. His mouth quirks and he

It’s a torture chamber.

least at first

Of course it isn’t…

is a blur of manacles, racks, whips and chains; stone walls, a vaulted roof, a cold

glass-fronted cooler containing wine and beer, and a huge bed at the far end of

a playroom, but of a very particular

kind of relationship my

Until now.

Keep your cool…

Michael halts. “Where?”

will do for a start. Take

and pulley arrangement. While Michael and I manhandle the unconscious Finchby into position, James takes something

be a moment,” he says, rummaging through a drawer, emerging with a second set of cuffs; these the real McCoy in steel. He fiddles with the bar for a

cuffs around his wrists, then clips a carabiner between bar and chain.

upright, arms over his head,

“That do

admit, I’m looking forward to seeing his expression

the door, pauses and turns. “Michael, set up a table where Finchby

taps me on the arm. “Give me a hand with

it as James asked, squarely in front of Finchby. Then

What the fuck?

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