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 do

from under his brows. “You really want to

“Yes.”

he’d

him in the

turns savage. “I want it known what will happen to anyone who makes any

“If someone has a quarrel with me, they can discuss

This is Klempner…

know what he’s done to some of the

stopped at cutting

Mitch reading

of the

regards him. “And how is your friend?

He blistered

It’s Finchby’s half of the money. I think most of it’s there, minus a… um… finder’s fee

“I

his head. “You

*****

Klempner

want to see Jenny

And the baby…

Of course…

see his Beth,

now, I

half-decorated. Close by,

window, fog swirls and inside, 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 and kindling; the hearth is stacked with logs and there’s already a good bed of ashes, albeit cold

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

drifts. I can pick out Jenny’s voice, excited and

off her

the

fire,

the buzz of excitement fades. And depression settles

Now what?

Perhaps I should go?

them play

be

mantle, staring down into the flames and where now, wood

is soft, mellow…

turn. “Mitch, is Jenny

up on her sleep and she’s having a bath, cleaning herself up properly now. They’ve put Cara in an incubator,

“An incubator? Here?”

could be whisked away to a clinic or hospital, but unless it’s an emergency…” She shrugs. “I think he just kept shoving money at them until they agreed to

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