Richard

My intercom buzzes.

“Yes, Francis?”

“Mr Haswell, I have the police commissioner on for you.”

“Put him through, please…” The phone clicks… “Richard?”

“Will, good to hear from you. What can I do for you? Do you have any news?”

“I do, Richard, yes. But it’s not good news I’m afraid.”

Damn…

“Go on.”

“I’ve emailed you a report from the authorities in Brazil. Briefly, there was an explosion in a hotel room in São Paulo; a booby-trapped lavatory would you believe. It took out several rooms and there were a lot of casualties. Two bodies were taken from the room. One was a member of the hotel staff. The other was a guest. The passport identifies him as one Harry Hughes: English. But take a look at the photograph and tell me what you think.”

My mouth sours…

Christ…

If it is…

“Can you hold, Will, while I pull up the email.”

“No problem. Take your time.”

Tap… Tap… Tap… Click…

Password…

Scroll…

Click…

Crap!

I breathe in. Let out air.

“Yes, that’s him. He’s clever with the hair and the glasses. It’s quite subtle and you wouldn’t see it on a casual glance, but that’s him…”

“Richard?”

I tell

… Or Charlotte?

“Richard? Are you alright?”

the past… But the courage he’s shown… The way he behaved when Charlotte was abducted… And when he knew there

What a waste…

you like me to call by and tell Mitch myself? Give

I’ll tell James and Michael, and get one

anything I can do, you know where

“Thanks, Will.”

*****

his office next door to mine.

“James?”

pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezing. “I feel terrible. This is

don’t know that

know it ninety-nine per cent for sure. I gave Juliana the wedge to crack his defences. It’s almost certainly down to me.” He breathes in, then out again. “No. The question is, how do I

her. At least for a while. After

“She’s already stressed out with waiting and hoping. Could this be worse? At

move her back into the house? So we can all keep a closer eye on her? Elizabeth

we’re spying on her. But we could make up her old room again, so it’s there as an

Shall we go. Deliver the news face-to-face. I’ve already asked Francis to

up. Eyes red-rimmed, he tugs his jacket straight. “You’re right. Time to face the

*****

Klempner

shield my eyes for a few seconds. By the time I’m blinking back to normality, the click-click of stiletto heels

her usual bag, stuffed with God-knows-what, and as usual, colour-co-ordinated to her outfit. “Good afternoon,

The dress fits too tightly and the lipstick is too bright for her. Although

do you wear

statement.” Her voice

loosely clasped around my legs, I do shift a little, moving my weight from one side to the other. I’ve almost ceased to notice

her face plastered under a brown sludge that would be flattering on some

and tosses a potato at me. On auto-pilot, I catch the miserable thing mid-air before it hit the deck but, despite the clenching in my gut, I don’t

Lunch?

realise I’ve not moved. She nods down to the potato. “Go

Still, I don’t move.

that one now and behave yourself, I’ll give you another

common sense beats it over the head. I take a bite from the potato, chewing slowly to convince my stomach

“Enjoying that?” she says.

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