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

under

“Yes.”

he’d told

him in

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

“If someone has a

This is Klempner…

know what he’s done to some

stopped at

“I didn't want Jenny or Mitch reading something like that in

end of the

how

say. He blistered my ears before he

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

stares at the bag. “I

head. “You know what they

*****

Klempner

head upstairs. They want to see Jenny of course. Spend some

And the baby…

Of course…

vanished too. To see

now, I

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

winter penetrates. The air is damp with chill, so, for lack of anything else to do, I make up the fire. It’s not difficult. A wicker basket contains paper, matches

stack thinnish stove-lengths then thicker logs over it, building it high. A

of laughter and chatter drifts. I

off her new

deeper tones rumble down too and occasionally the nurse trots past the door,

back to the fire, letting

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

Now what?

Perhaps I should go?

play Happy

be

fire, leaning with both hands on the mantle, staring down into the flames and where now, wood begins to drop into glowing

voice is soft,

is Jenny alright? And the

a bath, cleaning herself up properly now. They’ve put Cara in an

“An incubator? Here?”

away to a clinic or hospital, but unless it’s an emergency…” She

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