James

But downstairs in my playroom, Klempner is nowhere to be seen. Neither is he in the laundry, the boiler room or anywhere else.

Finchby has vanished too.

Michael regards the empty spot. Clicking a thumbnail against his teeth. “There’s only one way he could have gotten out.”

“Yes, there is. Michael, Klempner knew the tunnel existed. How long d'you think it would have taken him to find it if he was seriously looking?”

Hissing through his teeth, he marches across to the hidden exit at the far end of the chamber.

A click, the concealed door opens and he vanishes inside.

Re-emerging a minute later. “There’re drag marks where the floor turns to earth. You want to follow them?”

“I don’t think I do. I’m not sure I want to be responsible for whatever happens to Finchby. Besides, I have more immediate things to do.”

“Such as?”

“I have a hard drive to clean up before I deliver it to the police.”

Michael scratches at forty-eight-hour stubble. “I suspect Finchby may not be our problem anymore.”

“I suspect you’re right. Klempner wanted to question him some more. I doubt he’ll survive the experience.”

“And Klempner?”

“He'll be back.”

“You think?”

“Mitch.”

*****

The following evening, the front door opens and Klempner breezes in as if he had not a care in the world.

“James, Michael, sorry to leave you so precipitously. I'm sure you understand why.”

He’s changed, wearing fresh clothes which look new and fit him well; trousers, a roll-top sweater, jacket and shoes. And he carries a pair of bags, offering one to me.

“Yours. Thank you for the loan. I had them laundered of course.”

“Finchby?” I ask, cautiously.

“... Will trouble you no more.” His gaze is direct. “Or for that matter, anyone else.”

did you

regards me from under his brows.

“Yes.”

After he’d

him in the

left of him found.” His tone turns savage. “I want it known what

sunny. “If someone has a quarrel with

This is Klempner…

I know what he’s done to some of the

stopped at

or Mitch reading something like that in the papers

at the end of the

him. “And how is your friend?

I would say. He blistered

imagine. Here…” He proffers the second bag. “I should have given you this before, but we were rather busy. It’s Finchby’s half of the money. I think most of it’s there, minus a… um… finder’s fee to Hickman. I

the bag. “I assumed

Klempner cocks his head. “You

*****

Klempner

upstairs. They want to see Jenny of course. Spend

And the baby…

Of course…

too. To see

now, I pace the

a Christmas tree stands, half-decorated. Close by, a cardboard box overflows with tinsel

lack of anything else to do, I make up the fire. It’s not difficult. A wicker basket contains paper, matches and kindling; the hearth is stacked with logs and there’s already a good bed

and I stack thinnish stove-lengths then thicker logs over it, building

of laughter and chatter drifts. I

her

rumble down too and occasionally the nurse trots past the door, uniform crisp,

fire, letting the

fizz of activity, the buzz of excitement fades. And depression

Now what?

Perhaps I should go?

them play

should be

with both hands on the mantle, staring down into the flames and where

voice is soft,

“Mitch, is Jenny alright? And

sleep and she’s having a bath, cleaning herself up properly now. They’ve put Cara in an incubator, but it’s just a precaution while they make sure everything’s working

“An incubator? Here?”

everyone could be whisked away to a clinic or hospital, but unless it’s an emergency…” She shrugs.

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