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.
any expression. He takes an armchair at the back of the room; leaning back,
arm hooked through her mother’s. Mitch pauses in the doorway, brow furrowing as she
then gestures to an armchair. “Um… why don’t you sit down, Mitch.
it about Larry? You’ve heard something?” Her voice snatches. “Has…
“Please, Mitch, sit down.”
takes her hand. “Sit by me on
“So you know something I don’t? How
seat. “Mitch, please sit down. James needs to talk and it’s not going to be easy on either
glares at me sidelong, but sits, sandwiched between me and Charlotte, who
sheened, his words slow, speaks
indeed,
fooled into uploading James’ Trojan to his
a
to backup into the cloud, so that when Klempner replaced his mobile,
himself was hacked, and that virus now has control of Klempner’s
assume that it is Juliana behind
talks from behind his hands, “Mitch, I’m sorry. I never intended any of this, but we’ve heard nothing
“Are you telling me that woman can trace exactly where Larry is?
But yes,
you to tell any of us what you were doing?” Her tone would
James doesn’t reply.
still flat stomach.
He swallows…
octave. “Tell me, James.
of doing it, then she has control. She’ll 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 as he usually does, she won’t be able to see much, but she will be able to eavesdrop
top-line model. It’s capable of a
him, trembling, stroking her
Hickman, how long is
look that would etch glass
often did he normally contact
about once a day. Different times. Different pattern. Mainly…” He looks towards
thing you discussed
ask me to obtain the information regarding the organised crime syndicates in São
James. “I’d have been happy to help with the
his gaze to James. “Your
“Klempner’s in trouble because of me. I’ll book a
lost its edge. “Mr Alexanders, I know you mean well, but if Mr
say.
Summerford.” Hickman sucks at his lips, rubs
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RpfyqZ2OH/S3317LjOLXHE33LwCbM4r/117/Dww7WcGCGyjrbR0yGEpmgZaRpspJMT4B5t9fykU+2b9uLPo2D4je/qwmsyNyrfHRB3XkDB4aixaMT/Ax640Tem76E8PB3MoC7OGWaX22G6AWohT9kDMlOzDGyfqX1N4GcTjuVxGcB7vO5orRn2lw6zUkTnkBpSf2IYQN/tRjQzh5i6YmrqEY8hsRJ8mWnYaZQNfGp5y8SBXj35cE3R+PToC6ZTS7XwLst6WJHv/5mXbcM3M2KtmZSPN2Kt4XrpJoH8VFffk7EcE6xTC6L+kvZZTeIP6zw9589N9gUZik1+Qqgh4epLgiO1pNlcP1ctmda/2w6BPuFaKo3S1L0LKcIWYsIqX+W42y9bUh3kaZkGbA6Mx6CNlKfF0epmJa8xUi/tGpdgbrWpEsuY4hBlzDUVNh4tFU6GI=
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