Michael
“James, we have to tell her. Given her condition, Mitch has to know. ”
He exhales slowly, avoiding my eye. “Yes, she does. I’ve… been avoiding it…”
“Hoping it would go away? That Klempner would contact us out of the blue and we could warn him? That just like that, everything would be alright?”
“Something like that, yes.”
“If Mitch doesn’t have all the facts, she can’t make proper decisions. She’s going to need support. And part of that support is to give her the truth. It’s not doing her any favours to be kept in the dark.”
“You’re right of course.” James squeezes his eyes closed, presses at a temple. “Let’s get it over with. Can you get everyone together. We’ll need the family with her for this.”
*****
Richard and Beth drop what they are doing, joining us in the lounge. Georgie appears shortly afterwards, strolling in from the hotel with a speculative look in her eye.
Elbow resting on the chair arm, I talk behind my hand to James in the next seat. “You think it’s a good idea to have Georgie here?”
“She’s family too,” he snaps. “And she was also targeted by that maniac woman. So, yes, she should be here.”
Turning away from me, he flips open his mobile, giving the screen a couple of taps. “Hickman? Yes, it’s James. Could you join us in the house, please… Yes, right away.”
I bite down on my doubts. Georgie sits off to one side, silently waiting, regarding me from under lidded eyes as she sees me watching her.
But it’s James’ call…
His daughter…
His problem…
Or at least, the problem he created…
Charlotte perhaps has similar reservations. She meets my gaze for a long moment, her attention broken as James speaks. “Charlotte, could you fetch your mother, please. Tell her I need a word.” He stares at his feet for a moment, then, “Don’t say more than that. This has to come from me. Try to keep her calm.”
Sucking at her lips, Charlotte nods and heads out.
James paces the room, looking as though he’s just been asked what he would like for his last meal.
Richard pushes a glass into his hands. “Calm down. We all know it wasn’t intentional.”
James knocks back half an inch of golden liquid, then thrusts the glass back at Richard. Legs akimbo, his back to the fire, he stares moodily into space, cracking his knuckles.
arrives, clean of any expression. He takes an armchair at the back of the room; leaning back, arms folded,
pauses in the doorway, brow furrowing as she sees the gathering.
then gestures to an armchair. “Um… why don’t you sit down, Mitch. There’s something I have
Larry? You’ve heard something?” Her voice snatches. “Has… something happened to
“Please, Mitch, sit down.”
“Sit by me on
something
palm, steering her to the seat. “Mitch, please sit down. James needs to talk and it’s not going to be easy on
sits, sandwiched between me
slow,
As indeed, he
was fooled into uploading
Set a locator
cloud, so that when Klempner
himself was hacked, and that virus now has control of Klempner’s new
assume that
I’m sorry. I never intended any of this, but
usual, her complexion sallow. “Are you telling me that woman can trace exactly where Larry is?
But yes, that’s almost
occur to you to tell any of us what you were doing?” Her tone would
James doesn’t reply.
a still flat stomach. “What exactly is
He swallows…
voice rises an octave. “Tell me, James.
certainly know where he is. She’ll have his log-ins, passwords and his entry codes. She’ll be able to use the camera and the microphone. If he carries it in his pocket
fingertips to his forehead. “Larry uses a top-line model. It’s capable of a lot. But he doesn’t have control of
at him, trembling, stroking
Hickman, how long is it now since you last had
gives James a look that would etch glass then, speaking in a monotone, “Five days
did he normally contact
day. Different times. Different pattern. Mainly…” He looks towards Mitch…
was the last thing
me to obtain the information regarding the organised crime syndicates
me,” says James. “I’d have been happy to
swings his gaze to
me.
lost its edge. “Mr Alexanders, I know you mean well, but if Mr Klempner has encountered the kind of trouble that he can't handle…” He
I say. “I
sucks at his lips, rubs his
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RpfyqZ2OH/S3317LjOLXHE33LwCbM4r/117/Dww7WcGCGyjrbR0yGEpmgZaRpspJMT4B5t9fykU+2b9uLPo2D4je/qwmsyNyrfHRB3XkDB4aixaMT/Ax640Tem76E8PB3MoC7OGWaX22G6AWohT9kDMlOzDGyfqX1N4GcTjuVxGcB7vO5orRn2lw6zUkTnkBpSf2IYQN/tRjQzh5i6YmrqEY8hsRJ8mWnYaZQNfGp5y8SBXj35cE3R+PToC6ZTS7XwLst6WJHv/5mXbcM3M2KtmZSPN2Kt4XrpJoH8VFffk7EcE6xTC6L+kvZZTeIP6zw9589N9gUZik1+Qqgh4epLgiO1pNlcP1ctmda/2w6BPuFaKo3S1L0LKcIWYsIqX+W42y9bUh3kaZkGbA6Mx6CNlKfF0epmJa8xUi/tGpdgbrWpEsuY4hBlzDUVNh4tFU6GI=
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