Richard

I click off the video connection and almost immediately, there’s a tap at my door.

James?

Waiting for me to finish?

“May I come in?”

Yes… James…

He looks terrible…

“I wanted to apologise.”

I gather the sheaf of papers I was working with, injecting a business-like tone into my voice. “There’s nothing to apologise for my friend.”

Sounding unconvinced, “No?”

“No. We all have low points in our lives and I’d say you had one of those yesterday.” I regard the man standing in my doorway…

Face sallow…

Pupils like pin-holes…

Eyes like piss-holes in snow…

“How’s the hangover?”

“About what I deserve… Thank you for looking after Charlotte last night.”

“I wouldn’t have had it any other way, James.”

He stands, head lowered, seeming lost for words. This isn’t the James I know.

You’re not right yet, are you… Not by a long way…

I stand, walk across to him and am about to slap him on the shoulder….

Hangover…

Splitting headache…

Nausea…

… and settle for laying my hand on his shoulder. “James, I mean it. We all have times in our lives when our friends and family are what keep us going. If the positions were reversed, I’d like to think you and Michael would have done the same for Elizabeth. And she’s a lot more vulnerable than Charlotte ever will be.”

“Of course we would.”

we join the

*****

- Twenty-Six

looks good. “Larry, great

can you bring them

shouts through the door.

her; honey-skinned with hair that drapes her shoulders in glossy black ringlets, and amber-gold eyes that dart one way, then another between Finchby,

Finchby. “Quite

last shipment from Ghana,”

“Does she speak English?”

her shin with the toe of a boot.

them out to him, then to me, babbling something or other. The words are nonsense, but the pleading in the tone

ten years old, standing to one side. “You. Translate. Tell her to get her clothes off. Mr Finchby wants to see what

jabbers something to the girl, his breath coming in quick, short gulps as he gabbles the words. She whimpers, clutching at the front of

you tell

“Yes, Boss.”

her again, and if you don’t want to go the same way she’s going, do your

Boss.” His skin is

European?

Dutch maybe…?

has a knack for languages. However, he’s not going to keep

has already told me he has a couple of customers who would enjoy some time with you. So, if you don’t earn your keep here, you can easily be moved along. Now, tell this little slut to get her clothes

lights up.

as he speaks to the girl. She protests something-or-other, but he gestures to Bech and Finchby. Her eyes well, then fall as she unbuttons her shirt. Bech stands back, arms

to sobs as she strips. She hesitates over what passes for her underwear, but Bech says,

her and weeping silently, she removes the last, then stands head lowered, trembling, her arms crossed over her

“Might have a try on

take her,” says Finchby, “you’ll keep your fucking paws off her, Bech. I’ve them that’ll pay extra to have

before. Bech enjoys his little games and, for the most

does

something about

Is it her?

Or is it…?

Plenty that come this way are

interested in this one.” He glances at his watch. “I thought he’d be here by now.” He’s interrupted by the door swinging open. “Ah,

me. Bech turns, addressing me, “Sir, Mr Yakovlevski here has spotted a niche and is moving

quickly

short…” Bech looks to Finchby…

Bech? Nothing was said to

is to get the best price possible. Mr Klempner has expenses to cover.

think I don’t know he gives you

“C’mon, give us a smile. I know how it works. A man’s gotta earn a living. Those swimming pools in the Bahamas don’t pay for

Yakovlevski. “And to

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